CHRIST  AND  MOTHER     (PLOCKHOBST.) 


THE 

MAN  WONDERFUL 


IN  THE 


HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL, 


AND  THE 


HOLY  OF  HOLIES: 


AN    ALLEGORY 

Teaching  the  Principles  of  Physiology  and  Hygiene,  the  Effects  of 
Stimulants  and  Narcotics,  and  the  Beauty  and 


CHILION  B.  ALLEN,  A.  M.,  LL.  B.,  M.  D., 


Member  of  the  Bar  of  New  York  City, 

Member  of  the  Broome  County  Medical  Society,  N.  Y. 


THE  MAN  WONDERFUL  Co., 

CHICAGO,   LONDON. 

1891. 


BiOLOGY 
BRARY 
G 


COPYRIGHTED    BY 

CHILION  B.  ALLEN,  1891. 

All  rights  reserved. 


ENTERED  AT  STATIONERS'  HALL, 
LONDON,  ENGLAND. 

For  private  circulation. 


TO  THE 


Barents;     1  eachers,    and    (yuardians, 

UPON   WHOM 

RESTS  THE  GRAVE  RESPONSIBILITY  OF  INSTRUCTING 
THE  YOUNG 

HOW    TO    CARE    /="O/?    THE    BODY, 

AND  ALL  ITS  FUNCTIONS, 
THIS  WORK  IS  RESPECTFULLY  DEDICATED, 


PREFACE. 


TEACHING  truth  by  means  of  allegory  has 
been  among  the  most  successful  of  the  many 
methods  employed  by  the  ablest  instructors. 
Jesus  taught  the  common  people,  who  heard  him 
gladly,  by  parables,  and  for  nearly  two  thousand 
years  these  parables  have  been  equally  pleasing 
and  instructive  to  all  classes  and  conditions  of 
men,  and  during  all  ages  they  will  remain  as  use- 
ful as  when  first  uttered.  If  the  sublime  truths  of 
Christianity  could  be  taught  allegorically,  why 
may  not  less  difficult  subjects,  which  underlie  our 
well  being,  be  made,  in  like  manner,  interesting 
and  practical  ?  The  object  of  this  work  is  to 
teach  the  important  truths  of  Physiology  and 
Hygiene  as  well  as  the  effects  of  Stimulants  and 
Narcotics  upon  the  human  system,  and  to  show 
the  wonderful  adaptability  and  beauty  of  the 
human  body  in  such  an  attractive  and  practical 
manner  that  it  will  be  acceptable  and  useful  to  all. 
It  is  hoped  that  this  allegory  will  secure  a  per- 
manent lodgment  in  the  minds  of  the  young,  and 
that  they  will  find  so  much  pleasure  and  advan- 
tage in  practicing  the  truths  of  science  here 
taught,  that  the  contemplation  of  the  vital  truths 
of  their  earthly  habitation  will  forever  remain 
pleasurable. 

Parents  should  take  a  deep  interest  in  these 
subjects,  because  the  observance  of  the  laws  of 
health  has  a  direct  and  lasting  influence  on  the 
(vi) 


PREFACE.  vH 

health  of  the  present  and  future  generations.  It 
is  not  enough  that  the  children  read  this  allegory 
once  or  twice  ;  let  it  be  kept  in  the  family  as  a 
standard  reading  book,  to  be  read  aloud  from  time 
to  time,  thus  making  it  a  household  guide.  It  is 
hoped  the  questions  will  aid  in  fixing  more  last- 
ingly in  the  minds  of  the  young  the  most  impor- 
tant truths  taught. 

Science  has  now  made  definite  statements  upon 
the  injurious  effects  of  stimulants  and  narcotics, 
which  should  be  universally  known  ;  but  since  a 
bald  statement  of  these  truths  is  not  enough  to 
impress  the  minds  of  the  young,  it  is  interwoven 
by  the  imagination  with  the  wonderful,  to  adapt 
it  to  the  youthful  mind.  Knowing  by  experience 
how  hard  it  is  to  interest  children  in  "  dry  bones," 
an  effort  has  been  made  to  clothe  them  attrac- 
tively, and  to  present  science  as  something  more 
than  a  series  of  cold  statements,  hoping  by  this 
means  to  please  the  pupils  and  aid  the  teachers. 
Object  lessons  have  been  of  great  advantage  to 
both  teachers  and  pupils.  The  instructors  who 
will  combine  object  lessons  and  allegory,  will, 
without  doubt,  obtain  the  best  possible  results. 

In  gathering  facts  for  this  work,  the  Author  has 
used  every  reliable  source  of  information,  and 
acknowledges  indebtedness  to  Billroth,  Arldt, 
Niemeyer,  Crobak,  Gruber,  Hyrtle,  Gallazowski, 
Bowman,  Critchet,  Solberg,  Wells,  Tyndall,  Mil- 
ton, Huxley,  Helmholz,  Loomis,  Dalton,  Flint, 
Jr.,  Kirkes,  Richardson,  Carpenter,  Mme.  Sewall, 
Bartholow,  and  many  others,  and  more  especially 
to  his  wife,  who,  while  her  health  permitted,  gave 
able  and  constant  attention  to  every  subject  con- 
sidered, and  too  much  cannot  be  said  in  commen- 
dation of  her  aid  in  the  work. 


CONTENTS. 


PART  FIRST.— THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 
CHAPTER   I. 

FACE 

INTRODUCTORY. — The  Human  Body  compared  to  a  house,        9 

CHAPTER    II. 

THE  FOUNDATIONS. — The  Bones  compared  to  the  founda- 
tions of  a  house 16 

CHAPTER   III. 
THE  WALLS. — The  Muscles  described  as  the  walls  which 

give  shape  and  beauty, 21 

CHAPTER   IV. 
THE  SERVANTS. — The  Muscles  also  act  as  faithful  servants,      28 

CHAPTER  V. 
SIDING  AND  SHINGLES. — A  description  of  the  Skin  and 

its  appendages, 36 

CHAPTER   VI. 
THE  OBSERVATORY. — The  Cranium  and  its  contents,       .      45 

CHAPTER   VII. 
THE  HALL. — The  Mouth,  Teeth,  and  Salivary  Glands  as 

the  Hall  and  attendants,  53 

CHAPTER    VIII. 

THE  KITCHEN. — The  Stomach,  Gastric  Juice,  and  the  pro- 
cess of  digestion  described, 59 

CHAPTER  IX. 
THE  BUTLER'S  PANTRY.— The  Duodenum  thus  compared,      65 

CHAPTER   X. 

THE   DINING-ROOM.— The  Small  Intestines  the  Dining- 
room  of  our  House  Beautiful,    .        .         .        .  71 

(i) 


o  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    XI. 

PAGE 

THE  ENGINE.— The  Heart  and  its  workings  a  wonderful 

Engine,      .........       79 

CHAPTER    XII. 

THE  HOUSEKEEPER.— The  Blood  as  an  industrious  House- 
keeper, . 87 

CHAPTER   XIII. 
THE  LAUNDRY. — The  Lungs  and  the  mystery  of  washing 

the  blood  described, 95 

CHAPTER    XIV. 
THE  FURNACE. — The  Liver  as  afurnace  and  manufactory,     107 

CHAPTER   XV. 

THE  MYSTERIOUS  CHAMBERS.— The  ductless  glands,  as 
the  spleen,  supra-renal  capsules,  etc.,  thus  denom- 
inated and  described, 115 

CHAPTER    XVI. 
THE  TELEGRAPH. — The  Nerves  a  marvellous  Telegraph      122 

CHAPTER   XVII. 
THE   PHONOGRAPH.— The  Sympathetic  Nervous  system 

compared  to  a  Divine  Phonograph,  .         .        .     1 29 

CHAPTER   XVIII. 
THE  BURGLAR  ALARM. — The  Nerves  of  Sensation  give 

an  alarm  of  danger  to  the  House,     .         .        .         .134 

CHAPTER   XIX. 
THE  SIXTH  SENSE. — Muscular  Sense  thus  named,  .        .137 

CHAPTER   XX. 

THE  ORGAN.— The  Larynx  and  Vocal  Chords  an  incom- 
parable musical  instrument,  .  .  .  .  .141 


CONTENTS.  ^ 

CHAPTER   XXI. 

PAGE 

THE  AUDITORIUM.— A  description  of  the  External  and 

Middle  Ear, 148 

CHAPTER   XXII. 

THE  WHISPERING  GALLERY. — The  Internal  Ear,  a  mar- 
vellous Whispering  Gallery,      ....  155 

CHAPTER   XXIII. 
THE  WINDOWS.— How  the  eyes  serve  as  Windows  to  the 

House  Beautiful, 165 

CHAPTER   XXIV. 
THE   DOUBLE  TELESCOPE. — How  the  eyes  resemble  a 

double  telescope, 175 

CHAPTER   XXV. 
TWIN-BROTHER  GUARDIANS. — Taste  described  as  one  of 

a  pair  of  guardian  brothers, 184 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 
THE  OTHER  OF  THE  TWIN- BROTHERS.— The  Sense  of 

Smell  thus  designated  and  described,         .        .        .191 

CHAPTER   XXVII. 
THE  FACADE. — How  the  Face  and  Figure  show  beauty, 

and  can  be  compared  to  the  fagade  of  a  house,         .     196 


PART  SECOND. — THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

CHAPTER   I. 
THE   BABY. — His  growth  and  development  as  the  Man 

Wonderful, 205 

CHAPTER  II. 
GIRLHOOD. — Its  needs  and  requirements,  .        .        .212 

CHAPTER   III. 
BOYHOOD. — Its  needs  and  requirements,     .        •        .        .219 


4  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    IV. 

PAGE 

MANHOOD. — Man's  ability  to  do 224 

CHAPTER   V. 
DOUBTFUL  COMPANY.— Tea,  Coffee,  Opium,  and  Chloral 

Hydrate  treated  of  as  questionable  guests,        .        .     242 

CHAPTER   VI. 
BAD  COMPANY.— The  Aboriginal  American,  Tobacco,      .    250 

CHAPTER  VII. 
THE  QUACK  DENTIST  AND  MEDICAL  ASSISTANT.— 

Tobacco  described  as  acting  in  these  capacities,       .     257 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
THE  DUDE.— The  Cigarette  described  under  this  title,  .  263 

CHAPTER   IX. 
THE  DANDY.— The  Cigar  in  this  guise,     .        .        .        ,266 

CHAPTER   X. 
WICKED  COMPANY.— Wine  a  Quack  Doctor,    .        .        .270 

CHAPTER  XI. 
WICKED  COMPANY.— Beer  a  Shyster,  a  Deceiver,  .  .  279 

CHAPTER  XII. 
WICKED  COMPANY.— Distilled  Liquor  a  Thief,  .  .  287 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
WICKED  COMPANY.— Alcohol  a  Murderer,  .  .  .294 

CHAPTER  XIV, 
GOOD  COMPANY. — Foods  thus  treated,  .  .  .  .308 

CHAPTER  XV. 
A  ROYAL  GUEST.— Water, 315 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
THE  MAN  WONDERFUL, 318 


CONTENTS.  5 

PART  THIRD.  —  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 
CHAPTER  I. 

PAGE. 

INTRODUCTION,        .  .     361 

CHAPTER   II. 
THE  BOWER,  .     366 

CHAPTER   III. 
THE  LITTLE  HOUSE,       .  -377 

CHAPTER   IV. 
THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES,  .         .  .     401 

CHAPTER   V. 
THE  GENETIC  POWER, 429 

CHAPTER   VI. 
Six  BRIGHT  YOUNG  MINDS,    .         .         .  N  .     451 

CHAPTER   VII. 
WHAT  WE  INHERIT,        ...         •         •         .         -     471 

CHAPTER   VIII. 
A   PRINCESS    BEHIND   A   CHARCOAL   SCREEN,  OR 

BLOOD  WILL  TELL,      ...  .     486 

CHAPTER   IX. 
A  PRINCESS  is  FOUND,  .  .     506 

CHAPTER   X. 
SAVE  OUR  BOYS,     .  .     536 

CHAPTER   XL 
THE  UNIVERSITY,  ......     562 

CHAPTER   XII. 
HELPING  EACH  OTHER,  ...  .     585 

CHAPTER   XIII. 
THE  SURPRISE, 594 


THE  WIGWAM. 


MODERN  IMPROVKMENTS. 


(8) 


PART    I. 

THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL 


CHAPTER  I. 
INTRODUCTORY. 

1  IN  the  early  history  of  the  human  race  men  lived 
in  caves  in  the  ground,  in  huts  made  of  earth  and 
logs,  or  in  wigwams  made  of  the  skins  of  animals. 
But  as  they  became  more  civilized  they  enlarged  their 
dwellings,  and  invented  many  things  to  make  them 
more  comfortable.  f  It  has  taken  centuries  of  growth 
to  produce  the  "modern  improvements"  of  gas,  wa- 
ter on  each  floor,  speaking-tubes,  stationary  tubs,  bur- 
glar alarms,  and  telephones. 

'  I  am  going  to  tell  you  of  a  wonderful  house  de- 
servedly called  the  "  House  Beautiful,"  which  is  built 
by  a  wise  Architect,  who  has  been  building  such 
houses -ever  since  the  human  race  existed,  and  whose 
great  skill  and  wisdom  is  proven  by  the  fact  that  He 
has  never*  added  a  room,  or  made  one  less,  or  changed 
their  arrangement.  And  what  is  still  more  remark- 
able, the  very  first  house  of  this  kind,  which  was 
owned  by  a  man  named  5  Adam,  a  gardener,  had  in  it 
all  of  the  modern  improvements,  as  has  each  succeed- 
ingone.  All  the  rooms  are  heated  by  a  furnace.  There 

(9) 


10  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

are  water-pipes,  gas,  burglar  alarms,  a  system  of  tele- 
graphs  and  telephones  ;  there  are  also  the  stationary 
tubs  in  the  laundry.  I  wonder  how  many  of  you 
have  guessed  what  this  "  House  Beautiful  "  is.  *  Some 
of  you  have,  I  know,  and  are  ready  to  cry  out,  "  It  is 
our  body." 

Maybe  you  have  always  thought  that  your  body 
was  you.  7  But  it  is  only  the  house  you  live  in.  So, 
was  I  not  right  to  say  that  you  each  live  alone  ?  And 
perhaps  you  will  be  more  ready  to  admit  that  I  was 
right  to  call  it  a  house  when  I  tell  you  of  what  this 
wonderful  body  is  composed.  e  The  buildings  which 
your  bodies  inhabit  are  made  of  wood,  brick,  or  stone, 
and  are  held  together  by  nails  or  mortar.  "  But," 
you  say,  "  that  is  not  the  way  with  our  House  Beauti- 
ful." Let  us  see.  9  Chemistry  is  the  science  which 
takes  things  to  pieces  and  finds  out  of  what  they 
are  made ;  not  merely  breaking  them  up,  as  children 
do  their  toys  sometimes,  but  decomposing  them 
and  learning  what  things  are  put  together  to  make 
even  the  little  pieces.  9  Chemistry  tells  us  that  water 
is  made  by  uniting  two  gases — oxygen  and  hydrogen  ; 
and  that  air  is  made  by  mixing  oxygen  and  nitrogen. 
Chemistry  takes  a  piece  of  glass,  and  tells  us  that  it 
is  made  by  uniting  silicic  acid  and  potassa  in  certain 
proportions.  "  But  how  is  potassa  made  ?  "  lo  There 
are  some  things  which  even  Chemistry  can  not  find 
out,  and  when  something  is  found  which  Chemistry 
can  not  take  to  pieces,  that  substance  is  called  an  ele- 
mentary substance,  or  an  element.  Elementary  means 
primary.  You  who  have  studied  about  colors  have 


WHA  T  SUBSTANCES  IN  THE  BOD  Y.  \  \ 

learned  that  there  are  three  primary  colors,  red,  blue, 
and  yellow,  and  all  other  colors  are  made  by  uniting 
these  in  certain  proportions.  "  So,  in  the  formation 
of  the  world  and  all  that  there  is  in  it,  we  have  about 
sixty-three  elements.  In  building  houses  men  use 
iron,  plaster,  glass,  etc.,  and  the  Architect  of  our 
"  House  Beautiful "  has  used  the  same  materials.  It 
is  iron  that  gives  our  blood  its  rich  red  color,  which 
paints  such  a  charming  glow  on  the  cheeks  and  lips, 
and  iron  is  found  in  the  hair  and  in  the  bile  and  in 
various  parts  of  the  body.  Silica,  which  helps  to 
make  glass,  is  found  in  the  hair  and  nails ;  and  potassa, 
the  other  helper  in  glass-making,  is  found  in  the  blood 
and  muscles,  and  in  the  fluids  of  the  body.  Mortar 
is  made  of  lime,  and  our  houses  would  not  keep  in 
repair  long  if  we  did  not  furnish  them  lime  for  the 
bones  and  teeth. 

I  told  you  that  there  are  about  sixty-three  known 
elementary  substances  found  in  nature  ;  but  of  these 
only  about  one-fourth  are  used  in  our  bodies.  12  They 
are  oxygen,  hydrogen,  nitrogen,  carbon  (that  is  what 
coal  is,  you  know),  sulphur,  phosphorus,  silicon,  chlo- 
rine, fluorine,  potassium,  calcium  (that  is  lime),  mag- 
nesium, and  iron. 

These  substances  are  not  found  in  the  body  in  the 
same  state  in  which  we  see  them  as  glass,  or  nails,  or 
sulphur.  As  you  grow  in  knowledge  you  will  learn 
in  how  many  wonderful  ways  all  things,  animate  and 
inanimate,  are  working  to  help  each  other.  "  We 
can  not  eat  lime  or  silica,  but  plants  can,  and  then 
we  eat  the  plants ;  or  the  animals  eat  them,  and  we 


12 


THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 


eat  the  animals  ;  and  so  the  lime  or  potassa  is  made 
over,  so  that  we  can  use  it  in  keeping  us  alive  and 
in  repair.  So,  although  it  may  seem  a  diy  study,  it 
really  is  of  importance  for  us  to  know  just  how  and  of 
what  we  are  made,  and  where  we  shall  find  the  right 
things  to  feed  ourselves,  in  order  that  we  may  grow, 
and  keep  strong  and  well.  14  Everything  of  which 
we  are  made  must  be  obtained  from  food,  and  if  we 
do  not  give  the  bones  enough  lime,  or  the  blood 
enough  iron,  we  get  out  of  repair,  which  we  call  being 
sick. 

With  this  thought  in  view  we  begin  to  study  a  lit- 
tle more  closely  into  the  construction  of  this  wonder- 
ful house  we  live  in.  1BWe 
find  that  every  organ  is 
made  of  cells,  or  very  small 
bags,  filled  with  something 
that  looks  like  jelly.  This 
substance  has  a  long  name 
which  you  may  sometimes 
hear  grown  people  use.  18  It  is  protoplasm.  And  you 
know  as  much  what  that  means  as  they  do.  The  cells 
which  contain  this  jelly-like  protoplasm  are  so  small 
that  they  can  only  be  seen  by  a  very  powerful  micro- 
scope. Although  so  small,  they  are  very  wonderful,  and 
do  what  some  bigger  things  can  not  do.  "  They  are  all 
the  time  dying,  and  in  some  strange,  wonderful  way 
they  have  the  power  to  make  other  cells  to  take  their 
places.  Just  as  if  your  mamma  died,  and  in  doing 
so  made  you  a  new  mamma  to  take  her  place,  so  ex 
actly  like  her  that  you  could  not  tell  the  difference, 


c—-\ 


STRUCTURE  OF  THE  CELL. 


THE  CELLS.  !j 

and  never  knew  when  the  old  mamma  died,  and  the 
new  one  came.  This  is  going  on  all  through  our 
bodies  all  the  time.  Every  word  we  speak,  every 
thought  we  think,  every  motion  we  make,  destroys 
some  part  of  us,  and  if  the  new  material  which  comes 
to  take  the  place  of  that  which  is  worn  out  were  not 
just  like  that  which  it  replaces,  in  a  little  while  we 
would  be  so  changed  that  our  dearest  friends  would 
not  know  us.  Even  our  scars  are  made  over  from 

* 

year  to  year  after  the  same  pattern. 

18  When  girls  and  boys  are  growing,  so  many  en- 
tirely new  cells  have  to  be  added  that  they  change 
their  outward  appearance,  so  that  children  differ  in 
looks  from  the  men  or  women  they  afterward  be- 
come. Yet  enough  of  the  original  pattern  remains 
to  preserve  something  of  a  likeness. 

It  is  strange,  but  true,  that  while  men  have  studied 
everything  else  with  the  greatest  interest,  they  have 
almost  forgotten  one  study  which  is  of  great  import- 
ance to  them  ;  19  the  study  of  these  houses  which 
they  inhabit ;  how  they  are  made,  destroyed,  and 
kept  in  repair.  ao  Such  knowledge  learned  in  early 
life  would  save  us  a  world  of  suffering,  and  enable  us 
to  do  far  more  good  than  we  can  do  if  by  ignorance 
we  let  these  wonderfully  beautiful  dwellings  fall  into 
early  decay.  People  sometimes  say  that  at  first  the 
Great  Architect  made  these  houses  larger  and  they 
lasted  longer.  Be  that  as  it  may,  it  is  certain  that 
we  can  make  them  last  longer  if  we  learn  how  to  take 
care  of  them,  and  how  to  keep  them  in  repair,  by 
furnishing  the  cells  with  the  right  kind  of  food  in 
proper  quantities. 

2 


I4  THE  HOUSE  BEA  UTIFUL. 

"  Can  we  keep  these  little  cells  alive  longer  if  we 
hold  very  still.  And  would  that  keep  us  in  better  re- 
pair?" These  little  cells  are  made  to  live  a  certain 
length  of  time,  and  if  not  destroyed  by  activity  be- 
fore that  time,  will  die  then  anyway,  and,  if  not  re- 
moved,  become  a  source  of  disease.  81  Exercise,  while 
it  destroys  the  tissue  which  the  cells  form,  also  helps 
to  carry  them  out  of  the  system  after  they  are  dead, 
and  thus  creates  a  demand  for  new  material  for  new 
cells.  2a  This  demand  we  call  hunger.  It  is  far  bet- 
ter that  cells  should  be  destroyed  by  exercise,  and 
then  removed  from  the  body,  while  food  supplies 
material  for  new  cells,  than  that  they  should  be  left 
to  live  as  long  as  they  could,  and  die  of  old  age,  and 
then,  because  of  inactivity  of  the  body,  be  left  to  ob- 
struct the  system,  or  to  create  disease. 

So  you  need  not  be  afraid  to  work  or  play,  to  run 
and  jump,  or  to  help  papa  or  mamma,  for  that  will 
make  you  hungry.  And  the  cells  will  take  care  of 
themselves  if  you  give  them  wholesome  food  at  right 
times  and  in  right  quantities,  and  let  them  have  a 
chance  to  build  you  over  while  you  take  plenty  of 
sweet,  refreshing  sleep. 


CHAPTER   II. 

THE    FOUNDATION. 

1  THE  first  thing  to  be  thought  of  in  building  a  house 
is  its  foundation.  How  strong  and  broad  it  shall  be 
made,  and  how  deep  it  shall  be  laid  in  the  earth,  de- 
pend upon  the  size  of  the  house  to  be  built.  A  small 
cottage  does  not  need  a  foundation  as  strong  as  a  mill 
or  manufactory.  When  the  great  bridge  across  the 
Mississippi  was  built  at  St.  Louis,  Mo.,  the  first  stones 
of  the  foundation  were  laid  one  hundred  and  six  feet 
below  the  surface  of  the  water.  And  that  wonderful 
structure,  the  Brooklyn  Bridge,  rests  on  a  foundation 
whose  lowest  stones  are  placed  seventy-eight  feet  be- 
low the  surface  of  the  water.  If  any  one  had  told 
the  engineers  of  these  massive  creations  of  man's  skill 
that  it  would  not  matter  what  the  foundations  were 
if  only  the  superstructure  looked  pretty,  was  painted 
and  finely  ornamented,  they  would  have  shaken  their 
heads  and  said,  "  We  know  better  than  that.  We 
know  that  success  depends  upon  our  foundation." 

Even  so  our  success  in  life  depends  largely  upon 
having  a  good  foundation  for  our  "  House  Beautiful." 
By  this  foundation  we  mean  the  *  bones,  of  which 
there  are  about  two  hundred  in  the  body ;  and  when 
put  together  in  their  places, '  we  call  them  the  skeleton. 
(16) 


THE  TISSUES  SELECT  THEIR  OWN  FOOD.       ij 

They  are  of  various  shapes,  some  are  short,  some  are 
long,  and  some  are  irregular.  6  They  are  made  of  two 
kinds  of  matter,  earthy  and  animal.  8  If  you  put  a 
bone  into  the  fire  the  animal  matter  will  burn  out  and 
leave  the  earthy.  The  shape  of  the  bone  will  remain, 
but  if  you  touch  it,  it  will  fall  to  pieces.  7  Muriatic 
acid  will  dissolve  the  earthy  matter  and  leave  the  ani- 
mal matter,  and  then  you  can  tie  the  bone  into  a 
knot  without  breaking  it. 

8  In  little  children  the  bones  are  mostly  animal 
matter,  and  are  therefore  soft  and  will  easily  bend. 
"They  begin  to  ossify  or  get  bony  in  little  points  by 
the  accumulation  of  calcareous,  or  limy  matter,  and 
these  points  get  bigger  until  they  come  together, 
and  at  last  there  is  no  part  of  the  I0  bone  that  has  not 
its  proper  proportion  of  lime,  and  then  the  bones  are 
strong,  and  the  person  has  "  got  his  growth." 

11  The  earthy  matter  of  the  bones  is  principally 
phosphate  of  lime,  but  there  is  also  lime  in  other 
forms,  besides  magnesia  and  common  salt.  All  these 
things  must  be  obtained  from  the  food  we  eat 
*a  Would  it  not  be  funny  if,  when  your  papa  built  a 
house,  he  should  haul  a  big  pile  of  bricks  and  stone 
and  glass,  and  the  house  1S  would  help  itself  to  what- 
ever was  necessary  to  keep  itself  in  perfect  repair  ? 
Well,  that  is  just  what  your  "  House  Beautiful  "  does, 
only  you  have  to  keep  bringing  the  material  every 
day.  How  can  it  keep  itself  in  repair?  There  are 
some  things  which  we  know  are  done,  although  we 
are  not  able  to  explain  how.  We  know  that  grass 
grows,  but  no  one  knows  how  it  grows.  u  So  we 


I g  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

know  that  every  tissue  of  the  body  selects  its  own 
food,  though  we  can  not  tell  how  it  knows  what  is 
the  food  it  needs.  Wise  men  have  studied  this  won- 
derful house,  and  have  learned  many  interesting 
things  about  it,  and  are  learning  more  every  day. 

Every  bone  is  covered  with  a  whitish  skin  or  mem- 
brane, which  is  called  the  periosteum  (that  is  a  Latin 
word,  and  means  15 "  around  the  bone").  "  This 
membrane  has  many  blood-vessels  running  through 
it,  which  go  into  the  bone  to  carry  it  its  food.  The 
periosteum  fits  close  to  the  bone,  and  its  cells,  in 
health,  always  produce  bone. 

If  \.}\z  periosteum  is  peeled  off  and  the  bone  taken 
out,  new  bone  will  be  formed,  so  that  we  might  call 
it  the  mother  of  bone. 

If  you  examine  a  long  bone  of  an  animal,  you  will 
see  on  the  side,  near  the  end,  a  little  hole ;  and  in 
the  enlarged  ends  of  the  bones  several  other  holes. 
17  These  are  to  admit  blood-vessels  to  the  inside  of  the 
bone.  Look  carefully,  and  you  will  see  that  the  bone 
is  hard  and  solid  on  the  outside,  but  if  you  cut  off 
the  end  you  will  see  that  it  is  spongy — that  is,  full  of 
holes — on  the  inside.  These  holes  are  also  to  carry 
blood-vessels,  and  if  you  examined  the  bone  with  a 
microscope  you  would  see  very  many  others  which 
are  so  small  as  not  to  be  visible  to  the  eye  without 
the  glass;  and  all  these  are  canals  for  blood-vessels; 
ie  so  when  you  hear  people  talk  of  "  dry  bones  "  you 
will  know  that  such  bones  are  dead,  for  living  bonea 
are  full  of  blood,  and  are  eating  day  and  night  their 
breakfasts  and  dinners  of  lime. 


WHOLE   WHEAT  THE  BEST  BONE  FOOD.         ICj 

All  this  is  interesting  to  learn,  but  we  can  make  it 
more  than  interesting ;  we  can  make  it  practical. 
That  is,  we  can  use  our  knowledge  to  our  own  ad- 
vantage. What  can  we  learn  ?19  Knowing  that  the 
bones  of  babies  are  mostly  animal  matter,  called  car- 
tilage or  gristle,  we  should  be  careful  not  to  lift  them 
by  their  arms,  since  their  soft  bones  are  very  easily 
injured.  I  have  seen  a  mother  who  would  lift  a  child 
by  one  arm,  or  raise  it  to  her  lap  by  taking  hold  of 
both  arms  instead  of  putting  her 20  hands  on  the  baby's 
sides,  under  its  arms.  Such  a  mother  did  not  know 
how  soft  her  child's  bones  were,  or  she  would  not  have 
been  so  unkind  to  it. 

21  In  old  people  the  bones  are  mostly  of  earthy 
matter,  and  therefore  will  break  more  easily.  "  We 
should  remember  this,  and  try  to  guard  old  folks 
from  getting  bad  falls.  Never  play  a  trick  on  grand- 
ma or  grandpa  that  will 
result  in  a  fall,  for  it  is 
a  far  more  serious  thing 
for  them  to  fall  than  for 
you.  23  Sometimes,  when 
children  do  not  have  the 
kind  of  food  that  furnishes 

. .  f  ,         ,  CELLS  WITH  FOREIGN  MATTERS. 

lime  for  the  bones,  they 

have  a  disease  that  is  called  "  rickets,"  and  that  means 
nothing  more  than  that  their  bones  are  too  soft,  and 
need  more  lime.  This  is  a  very  practical  matter,  and 
we  are  all  interested  in  learning  how  we  shall  give 
our  foundations  strength  and  firmness,  so  that  they 
shall  be  able  to  hold  us  up  and  keep  us  straight,  and 


2Q  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

we   shall   grow  to  the  full  stature  of   manhood  or 
womanhood. 

u  The  best  bone-building  food  is  undoubtedly  the 
whole  wheat ;  and  by  that  I  mean,  not  the  white 
flour  such  as  most  people  use  in  making  bread,  but 
the  wheat  flour  before  it  is  bolted.  It  would  interest 
you  to  visit  a  mill  and  see  how  flour  is  made  ;  then 
you  would  understand  what  I  mean  by  bolting.  The 
Great  Architect  of  the  "  House  Beautiful  "  made  wheat 
to  contain,  in  nearly  the  right  proportion,  everything 
that  is  needed  to  build  up  the  body  and  keep  it  in 
perfect  repair.  "  But  when  men  grind  the  wheat  and 
bolt  it  they  take  out  of  it  nearly  all  the  bone-building 
material. 


CHAPTER    III. 

THE   WALLS. 

HAVE  you  never  seen  a  house  built  with  a  wooden 
tramework,  just  as  if  it  were  going  to  be  sided  on 
the  outside  and  the  spaces  between  the  studding 
filled  in  with  brick?  The  frame  gave  the  strength  to 
support  the  roof  and  to  hold  all  the  different  parts 
of  the  house  together,  while  the  brick  walls  gave 
solidity  and  warmth.  We  have  studied  something 
about  our  foundations,  how  they  are  made  largely  of 
lime;  'but  our  foundations  are  also  our  framework, 
extending  to  the  roof,  inclosing  the  rooms  inside, 
and  supporting  the  walls  without.  These  walls  are 
of  a  red  color,  resembling  in  tint  the  beautiful  Phila- 
delphia brick,  but  they  are  not  like  bricks  in  any 
other  respect.  *  Bricks  are  dead  and  inert,  and  when 
they  begin  to  wear  out  they  crumble  away,  and  if  left 
to  themselves  will  at  last  fall  to  pieces  and  become 
of  no  use.  '  The  walls  of  our  house  are  alive,  and 
although  they  are  all  the  time  wearing  out,  yet  they 
are  also  all  the  time  repairing  themselves ;  and  they 
do  it  so  quietly  and  gently  that  we  4  never  know  any- 
thing about  it,  unless,  as  sometimes  happens,  we  do 
not  give  the  housekeeper  the  material  needed  to  keep 

(21) 


22 


THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 


the  walls  in  repair ;  then  they  tell  us  about  it  by  com- 
plaining  of  being  tired,  when  we  know  they  have  re- 
ally done  nothing  to 
tire  them. 

6  These  walls  are 
called  muscles,  and 
there  are  about  four 
hundred  of  them,  or 
more  than  that  many, 
but  that  is  an  easy 
number  to  remember, 
and  you  will  also  re- 
member that  there 
are  about  twice  as 
many  muscles  as 
bones,  and  that  will 
be  enough  for  you  to 
remember  now. 

6 1  think  I  did  not 
tell  you  how  the  frame- 
work of  our  house  is 
held  together.  It  is 
by  white  shining 
bands,  called  liga- 
ments. These  fasten 
the  bones  together 
very  much  as  do  the 
braces  of  a  house 
which  you  see  nailed 
at  the  corners  of  a 
wooden  house-frame,  or  where  two  pieces  of  wood  are 
joined  together,  end  to  end  ;  so  we  may  call  these  lig- 


THK  FRAMEWORK. 


THE  JOINTS.  23 

aments  the  braces.  The  framework  of  our  House  Beau- 
tiful  must  not  only  be  strong, 7  but  it  must  also  be  mov- 
able, so  these  braces  should  not  hold  it  rigidly  in 
one  position,  but  allow  of  motion,  in  various  direc- 
tions, at  those  places  where  the  different  bones  come 
together,  which  are  called  joints.  8  Some  of  the  joints 
do  not  move,  as  those  in  the  head.  These  are  called 
immovable  joints.  "  Of  the  movable  joints  there  are 
the  hinge  joint,  as  at  the  elbow  ;  and  the  ball-and- 


KNKE- JOINT  ANTERIORLY.  KNEE-JOINT  POSTERIORLY. 

socket  joint,  as  at  the  shoulder.  10  Where  the  ends  of 
the  bones  come  together  to  form  a  joint,  they  are  tip- 
ped with  cartilage,  so  they  will  be  smooth,  and  at  the 
same  time  elastic,  so  that  we  will  not  jar  the  brain 
when  we  jump. 

*'  Sometimes,  as  at  the  knee,  they  are  enclosed  in  a 
sac,  and  then  bound  in  place  by  the  ligaments;  ia  but 
with  all  this,  they  would  not  move  if  it  were  not  for  the 
muscles.  So  it  is  time  for  us  to  begin  the  study  of  the 


24  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

muscles.  A  book  which  I  have  just  looked  into  says 
"A  voluntary  muscle  is  the  most  highly  organized, 
and  is  possessed  of  the  most  varied  endowments, 
of  all  living  structure."  I  wonder  if  we  can  find  out 
what  that  means?  I  think  it  means  something  like 
this :  That  muscles  are,  in  their  structure  and  in  the 
ability  they  have  to  do  things,  the  most  wonderful 
parts  of  our  beautiful  house.  IS  The  largest  part  of 
our  bodies  is  made  up  of  muscles,  and  they  use  up  the 
most  of  the  food  which  is  carried  to  all  parts  of  the 
house  by  the  housekeeper,  Blood. 

4  They  are  made  up  of  many  tiny  fibres,  and  you 
will  understand  what  fibres  are  if  you  will  take  a  spool 
of  white  cotton  and  untwist  a  thread.  You  will 
first  find  that  the  one  thread  is  made  of  three  finer 
threads  twisted  together,  and  each  of  these  is  made 
of  two  threads ;  and  if  you  pick  it  to  pieces  still  fur- 
ther you  will  find  that  each  of  these  is  made  of 
innumerable  short,  fine  pieces.  Each  one  of  these  is 
a  fibre.  IB  Muscles  are  made  very  much  as  thread  is 
made,  of  little  bundles  of  fibres.  16  But  each  mus- 
cular fibre  is  wrapped  up  in  a  thin  blanket  of  its 
own.  "  This  blanket  is  called  a  sheath,  because  it 
incloses  the  fibre  as  the  sheath  of  a  sword  incloses 
the  sword.  18  This  sheath  of  the  fibres  of  muscle  is 
called  by  a  big  name, — sar-co-lem-ma. 

19  These  little  fibres,  each  in  its  coat  of  sarco- 
lerr.ma,  are  gathered  into  bundles,  not  twisted  togeth- 
er as  thread,  but  lying  side  by  sr'e,  and  it  is  these 
bundles  which  we  call  muscles.  Seventeen  hundred 
of  these  fibres  make  a  bundle  an  inch  across  in  you 


THE  TENDONS  2$ 

young  folks,  but  they  grow  as  you  grow,  and  when 
you  are  of  full  stature  it  will  not  take  more  than  five 
hundred  to  make  an  inch.  fo  They  are  made  up  of 
other  little  fibres  so  small  that  they  are  known  as 
fibrillce  or  little  fibres,  and  it  would  take  many  thou- 
sands of  them  to  make  a  bundle  an  inch  thick.  But, 
1  small  as  they  are,  fluids  circulate  through  them,  and 
it  is  in  them  that  oxygen  is  consumed  and  carbonic 
acid  given  to  the  blood  ;  and  heat  is  the  result ;  22so 
these  fibrillae  might  be  called  stoves.  But  they  are 
more  than  stoves.  Are  they  electric  batteries  ?  On 
a  cold  day,  if  you  shuffle  your  feet  over  the  carpet, 
you  can  collect  enough  electricity  to  send  a  spark 
from  your  finger  to  the  nose  of  your  companion,  and 
make  you  both  jump.  But  now  I  want  to  talk  about 
the  bundles  of  fibres  which  are  our  walls  or  muscles. 

When  all  the  fibres  that  make  a  muscle  are  gathered 
together  they  are  inclosed  in  another  sheath,  which 
is  named  the  perimysium;  "/^meaning  around,  and 
my  slum  the  muscles. 

aa  Between  the  fibres  in  the  muscles,  and  between 
the  muscles  themselves,  fat  is  always  to  be  found. 
16  You  scarcely  need  to  be  told  that  the  muscles  are 
supplied  with  arteries,  veins,  and  capillaries.  The 
latter  are  smaller  in  the  muscles  than  elsewhere  in  the 
whole  system.  27  The  muscles  are  attached  to  the 
bones  by  strong  white  bands,  called  tendons.  You 
can  see  the  tendon  in  a  leg  of  beef  or  mutton.  It  is 
white  and  shining  and  hard,  not  at  all  like  the  red 
muscle  which,  in  an  animal,  we  call  the  lean  meat. 

"  These  muscles,  lying  in  various  layers  around  our 


26  THE  HOUSE  BE  A  UTIFUL. 

bones,  are  what  give  to  us  our  shape.  When  packed 
in  fat  they  give  a  beautifully  rounded  outline  to  the 
human  figure  ;  but  when  there  is  but  little  fat  the 
figure  looks  angular.  29  They  grow  with  use,  and  on 
the  arm  of  a  blacksmith  we  can  see  a  huge  muscle 
swelling  up  when  he  shuts  his  hand  and  bends  his  el- 
bow. On  the  legs  of  those  who  walk  or  run  a  good 
deal,  especially  if  they  walk  on  their  toes,  a  muscle 
swells  out  and  makes  a  fine  calf.  so  Around  the  trunk 
of  the  body  they  are  arranged  in  layers,  some  going 
around,  others  up  and  down,  and  still  others  in  a  di- 
agonal direction.  3l  This  arrangement  makes  a  fine 
protection  for  the  internal  organs,  as  well  as  being  an 
excellent  plan  for  accomplishing  other  effects. 

There  is  one  practical  thing  which  you  can  learn 
from  this  study  of  the  muscles.  3>  If  you  think  that 
the  walls  of  your  especial  house  are  not  strong  enough 
nor  thick  enough,  you  can  make  them  both  thicker 
and  stronger  by  using  them  judiciously ;  that  is,  ac- 
cording to  your  age,  strength,  and  condition.  S3  But 
if  you  overwork  your  muscles,  the  cells  will  be  de- 
stroyed faster  than  they  can  be  renewed,  and  weak- 
ness instead  of  strength  will  be  the  result.  The  walls, 
instead  of  being  rebuilt  constantly  with  new  mate- 
rial, will  become  partly  filled  with  worn-out  matter. 
14  Sometimes  it  is  rest  that  is  needed  to  build  the 
walls,  for  du-ring  rest  the  old  material  is  removed  and 
fresh,  living  matter  put  in  its  place. 

"  It  is  wise  to  build  up  firm,  strong  walls,  for  we 
can  not  have  much  beauty  or  great  ability  for  useful- 
ness with  soft,  flabby  muscular  tissues.  "  If  we 


WE  NEED  STRONG  WALLS.         2J 

should  see  a  man  putting  strong  iron  bands  around  a 
handsome  house,  we  should  at  once  take  it  as  a  con- 
fession  that  something  was  wrong  in  its  construction 
that  it  thus  needed  external  support,  and  we  should 
probably  blame  the  architect  who  had  erected  a  build- 
ing so  weak  that  it  could  not  stand  alone.  37  But  the 
Architect  of  our  House  Beautiful  never  makes  such 
mistakes.  If  we  find  it  needful  to  put  on  external 
supports  it  is  an  evidence  that  we  have  not  properly 
used  our  muscles,  and  this  is  a  confession  of  weak- 
ness, and  also  of  ignorance.  Let  us  trust  our  wise 
"Architect  and  use  the  muscles  He  has  given  us, 
wisely  use  them,  in  work  or  in  play,  and  at  all  times 
pride  ourselves  on  our  ability  to  stand  erect  and  walk 
uprightly. 


CHAPTER     IV. 

THE   SERVANTS. 

DID  you  ever  think  that  a  minister  and  a  servant 
are  the  same  thing?  l  A  minister  is  one  who  serves, 
and  a  servant  is  one  who  ministers  unto  another.  To 
be  a  servant  is,  therefore,  sometimes  a  very  high  call- 
ing, and  to  serve  well  may  be  the  most  important 
work  of  our  life.  2  The  happiness,  growth,  and  prog- 
ressof  the  world  depend  upon  its  servants,  both  pub- 
lic and  private  ;  and  the  comfort  and  welfare  of  our 
House  Beautiful  depend  upon  the  integrity  of  its 
servants.  They  are  comprised  under  two  heads : 
3  those  who  wait  for  orders  before  doing  anything, 
and  those  who  understand  always  what  is  required 
of  them,  and  work  night  and  day  without  waiting 
for  commands.  The  first  we  call  the  voluntary  mus- 
cles, the  second  the  involuntary  muscles.  4  It  is  the 
voluntary  muscles  which  have  grouped  themselves 
around  us  to  form  our  walls,  to  protect  us  from  in- 
jury, to  strengthen  our  framework,  and  which  carry 
us  from  place  to  place  as  we  order  them.  We  often 
laugh  at  the  snail  because  he  carries  his  house  on  his 
back ;  6  but  when  we  think  of  it,  we  see  that  we  do 
the  same  thing.  We  never  go  out  without  taking 
(28) 


MUSCLES  OF  THE  FRONT  FIGURE. 


29 


MUSCLES  OF  THE  FRONT  FIGURE. 

B.  Mastoid  Muscle ;  B.  Deltoid— the  Muscle  covering  the  Shouldei  Joint; 
C.  Biceps— Two-headed  Muscle  of  the  Arm  ;  D.  Pronator — Pronating  Muscle 
of  the  Arm  ;  E.  Supinator — S  pinating  Muscle  of  the  Arm ;  F.  Flexor — 
Flexor  of  the  Wrist ;  G.  Palmaris— Bending  Muscle  of  the  Hand  ;  H.  Flex- 
or—Flexor of  the  Wrist ;  I.  Large  Muscle  of  the  Chest ;  LL.  Rectus — 
Straight  Muscle  ;  M.  Linea  Alba*White  Line ;  OO.  Sartorius— The  Tailor'* 
Muscle:  W.  Rectus  Femoris— Straight  Femoral  Muscle. 


30  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

our  house  along.  In  fact,  the  owner  and  master  of 
the  House  Beautiful  can  never  go  away  from  home, 
so  it  is  no  wonder  he  sings, 

"  Be  it  ever  so  humble,  there  is  no  place  like  home," 

for  there  is  no  other  place  for  him  in  this  world. 
Ought  he  not,  then,  to  be  very  thankful  to  the 
strong,  willing,  ever-ready  servants  who  serve  him  so 
faithfully  all  his  life,  and  enable  him  to  enjoy  so  much 
more  than  he  could  without  their  aid?  I  hope  you 
will  not  get  tired  at  being  referred  back  to  something 
I  have  told  you  befoie.  The  only  way  we  can  un- 
derstand what  is  to  come,  is  by  remembering  what  we 
have  previously  learned. 

I  wish  now  to  recall  to  your  mind  how  many  of  the 
bones  are  made  long,  slender,  and  with  enlarged  ends. 
6  To  form  a  joint,  these  bones  are  placed  end  to  end 
and  held  together  by  ligaments.  7  Each  bone  has 
upon  each  end  a  firm  cushion  of  cartilage,  which  is 
somewhat  like  india-rubber,  and  these  cartilages  are 
oiled  by  a  fluid  which  is  made  right  there  where  it  is 
needed.  8  We  do  not  have  to  do  as  railroad  men  do, 
stop  every  little  while  and  run  around  with  an  oil- 
can to  oil  the  machinery ;  our  machinery  oils  itself. 
9  But  the  bones  would  not  stay  in  place  if  the  liga- 
ments did  not  hold  them  fast.  The  same  quality 
under  different  circumstances  has  different  names. 
It  is  said  of  a  donkey  that  he  always  wants  to  go  in 
an  opposite  direction  from  that  in  which  it  is  desired 
that  he  should  go.  This  disposition  in  a  donkey  ia 


THE  SPINAL  COLUMN.  31 

called  mulishness ;  10  in  a  boy  or  girl  it  would  be 
called  obstinacy;  "grown  persons  might  speak  of  it 
in  themselves  as  perseverance ;  12  but  in  the  ligaments 
it  is  called  elasticity.  The  ligaments  like  to  have 
their  own  way.;  and  when,  by  any  movement  of  the 
muscles,  the  ligaments  are  stretched  or  bent,  they  at 
once  try  to  go  back  to  their  own  place  ;  13  and  this 
very  resistance  to  change  is  of  great  use  to  us  in 
keeping  us  erect  or  upright.  "  If  you  feel  up  and 
down  your  back,  you  will  find  a  row  of  knobs  or  pro- 
jections, which  are  called  the  spinous  processes  of  the 
vertebra,  or  backbone.  15  The  spinal  column  is  made 
up  of  twenty-six  bony  rings,  each  one  with  a  bony  han- 
dle, and  these  rings  are  placed  one  over  the  other, 
the  handles  all  turned  the  same  way.  The  ends  of 
these  handles  are  what  you  feel,  and  are  called  spines, 
or  spinous  processes.  I6  These  spines  are  fastened  to- 
gether by  ligaments.  17  Between  the  rings  of  the 
backbone  there  are  cushions  of  cartilage,  which  al- 
low of  movements  in  various  directions.  "  When 
you  bend  forward,  all  these  cushions  on  the  front 
side  of  the  spinal  column  are  pressed  together,  and 
the  handles  on  the  other  side  are  pulled  apart  like 
the  sticks  of  a  fan,  and  the  ligaments  are  stretched. 
18  But  when  you  raise  yourself  into  a  standing  pos- 
ture, the  ligaments  contract,  and,  by  their  elastic 
force  and  obstinacy,  we  are  held  upright  without  our 
having  to  think  about  it.  So  you  see  that  obstinacy 
in  the  right  may  not  be  a  bad  thing,  but  we  need  to 
be  very  sure  that  we  are  right  before  we  are  obsti- 
nate. These  ligaments  are  never  at  a  loss  to  know 


32  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

whether  they  are  right  or  not.  They  know  that  what 
they  want  to  do  is  the  right  thing  to  do.  lo  Their 
business  is  to  resist  change,  that  is,  to  be  what  we 
nowadays  call  conservative,  and  this  for  us  is  pre- 
servative. 

21  Sometimes  bones  get  out  of  place,  dislocated, 
the  surgeons  say,  and  these  ligaments  pull  with  all 
their  might  to  get  the  ends  of  the  bones  back  into 
place.  M  But  the  bones  don't  do  anything  to  help, 
and  while  some  of  the  muscles  are  helping,  23  others 
of  them  are  pulling  in  a  wrong  direction,  so  that 
things  go  pretty  badly  until  a  skilful  surgeon  takes 
hold,  and  by  turning  the  bones  in  the  right  direction, 
and  in  right  relation  to  each  other,  the  ligaments  and 
muscles,  guided  in  their  efforts,  pull  the  bones  into 
place.  24  This  shows  us  that  it  is  necessary  to  have 
something  more  than  a  desire  to  help ;  it  needs  also 
to  know  how.  Muscles  have,  to  some  extent,  this 
quality  of  elasticity.  *5  They  have  also  tonicity,  which 
means  that  muscles  are  always  drawn  up  a  little  with- 
out our  drawing  them  up  by  our  will.  We  can  con- 
tract or  shorten  our  voluntary  muscles  as  we  wish ; 
but  if,  when  we  were  not  using  them,  they  were 
not  in  the  least  contracted,  they  would  be  very  soft 
and  flabby ;  and  it  is  because  they  are  always  con- 
tracted a  little  that  they  are  firm,  and  that  is  what  is 
meant  by  tonicity,  or  tone  of  a  muscle.  a6  Muscles 
have  also  sensibility.  But  that  does  not  mean  their 
ability  to  feel  pain ;  it  means  that  when  we  take  hold 
of  anything,  the  muscles  are  able  to  judge  how  heavy 
it  is ;  or  when  we  push  against  a  thing,  they  tell  us 


CONTRA  CTILIT  Y  OF  MUSCLE.  3  3 

whether  it  is  movable  or  whether  it  resists  pressure. 
It  is  by  the  sensibility  of  muscles  that  we  are  able  to 
judge  how  much  strength  it  will  take  to  accomplish 
something  which  we  wish  to  do  with  our  muscles. 

17  Contractility  is  the  fourth  property  of  muscle. 
This  is  the  shortening  of  the  fibres  of  which  the  mus- 
cle is  composed,  and  by  this  means  drawing  together 
the  two  points  to  which  the  muscle  is  attached.  A 
muscle  is  not  fastened  at  both  ends  to  the  same  bone, 
but  there  is  usually  a  joint  between.  We  can  study 
that  in  the  arm.  **  The  muscles  that  move  the  arm 
below  the  elbow  are  fastened  at  one  end  above  the 
elbow  and  at  the  other  end  below.  a9  When  the  mus- 
cle on  the  front  of  the  arm  contracts,  it  bends  the 
elbow ;  when  the  one  on  the  back  of  the  arm  con- 
tracts, the  elbow  is  straightened  out.  Sometimes 
when  your  mamma  wants  to  hire  a  girl  to  80  help  in  the 
house,  she  finds  that  the  girl  is  very  particular  to  in- 
quire just  what  work  she  will  have  to  do,  and  refuses 
to  do  anything  that  was  not  specified  as  her  work. 
Well,  the  servants  in  our  house  are  just  so  particular. 
The  muscle  that  bends  a  joint  will  never  straighten 
it,  and  so  it  is  necessary  always  to  have  two  sets  of 
servants,  who  may  be  said  to  be  opposed  to  each 
other,  to  work  against  each  other.  S1  The  muscles 
which  bend  the  joints  are  called  flexors ;  those  which 
straighten  the  joints  are  called  extensors.  sa  But,  al- 
though these  muscles  are  opposed,  they  never  work 
against  each  other  at  the  wrong  time.  They  do  not 
interfere  with  each  other's  work.  If  they  ever  do  get 
obstinate,  and  all  work  at  the  same  time,  that  makes 
the  limb  rigid  so  that  it  will  not  move  at  all. 


34 


THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 


3  In  conti acting,  a  muscle  docs  not  change  in  size 
but  only  in  shape.  It  grows  shorter,  but  at  the  same 
time  it  grows  thicker  and  firmer.  If  we  think  how 
many  things  are  to  be  done  in  our  house,  we  will  not 
wonder  that  there  must  be  nearly  five  hundred  ser- 
vants, some  to  flex,  some  to  straighten  the  limbs, 
some  to  wink  our  eyelids,  others  to  move  our  tongue, 
to  nod  our  head,  to  bend  our  back,  to  help  us  straight- 
en up  again,  to  perform  all  the  varied  motions  which 
we  make  daily  without  thinking  much  about  it.  It 
will  be  impossible  to  describe  to  you  fully  all  the  mo- 
tions made  by  the  muscles,  but  we  will  consider  for  a 
moment  the  action  in  walking.  S4  When  we  are  stand- 
ing erect  the  weight  of  the  body  rests  upon  the  arch 
of  the  foot,  and  the  heels  and  balls  of  the  toes  touch 
the  ground.  86  The  muscles  of  the  leg,  thigh,  and 
body  keep  us  erect ;  but  when  we  wish  to  walk,  then 
by  muscular  action  Sfl  the  body  is  made  to  lean  forward, 
and  this  puts  the  two  powerful  muscles  which  form 
the  calf  of  the  leg  upon  the  stretch,  and  they  pull 
upon  the  tendon  at  the  heel,  and  lift,  not  only  the 
heel,  but  the  ankle-joint  and  the  whole  body,  and 
carry  it  forward ;  at  the  same  time  the  other  foot  is 
lifted  entirely  off  the  ground  and  swung  forward  so 
as  to  be  ready  to  take  the  next  step.  "  In*  walking, 
running,  or  jumping,  we  are  protected  from  being 
jarred,  by  the  elasticity  of  the  bones  themselves,  by 
the  elasticity  of  the  muscles,  and  by  the  cushions  at 
the  ends  of  the  bones  and  between  the  rings  of  the 
backbone.  38  But  to  assist  us  in  moving  from  place  to 
place  is  not  all  that  these  servants  do  for  us ;  even 


OF  TKX 

UNIVERSITY 


FIBRES  OF  MUSCLE.  35 

rest  itself,  in  a  sitting  or  standing  posture,  is  due  to 
the  servants.  39  They  hold  us  up,  and  to  do  this 
must  be  in  a  state  of  tension  or  pulling,  which  we 
have  spoken  of  as  tonicity,  and  they  can  never  rest 
completely  unless  we  lie  down.  That  is  why  we  rest 
so  much  faster  when  lying  than  when  sitting  down. 
Therefore,  if  we  are  ever  in  a  hurry  to  get  rested;  we 
should  remember  this  fact.  lo  The  servants  of  which 
I  have  been  speaking  are  those  which  wait  for  orders, 
and  are  called  voluntary  muscles.  41  The  involuntary 
muscles  take  charge  of  those  movements  which  are 
not  under  our  control,  such  as  digestion,  the  beating 
of  the  heart,  and  the  movements  of  respiration. 

I  have  told  you  that  the  fibres  of  muscles  are 
stoves,  but  they  are  something  more  surprising  than 
that,  according  to  the  theory  of  a  German  investi- 
gator, they  are  musical  instruments.  He  says  that 
the  contractions  of  muscles  produce  sound,  and  that 
he  has  really  been  able  to  hear  the  tones  thus  made, 
and  that  they  are  musical.  We  have  often  read  of 
the  "music  of  the  spheres."  That  is  the  sound  sup- 
posed to  be  made  by  the  swift  rushing  of  the  earth 
and  other  planets  through  space.  The  Psalmist  says, 
"  The  morning  stars  sang  together,"  but  we  have  always 
thought  that  to  be  only  poetry  and  not  fact.  But 
why  may  it  not  be  true?  If  our  very  muscles  are 
singing  at  their  work,  we  are  set  to  music. 

What  a  wonderful  grand  chorus  must  arise  from  all 
the  active  limbs  of  man  and  animals ;  a  great  song  of 
praise,  pealing  forth  in  manifold  strains, 

"  It  is  he  that  hath  made  us  and  not  we  ourselves." 


36  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

We  might  consider  the  hand  as  a  tool.  It  has  as 
many  as  thirty  muscular  servants  to  move  it.  By 
experiment,  you  will  find  that  the  fingers  do  not  act 
independently;  this  is  because  they  are  very  inti- 
mately related  through  the  nerves.  One  nerve  goes 
to  the  thumb  and  to  the  outside  of  the  first  finger ; 
another  supplies  the  inside  of  the  first  finger  and  all 


of  the  three  other  fingers.  The  hand  is  aided  by  the 
mobility  of  the  wrist,  which  is  made  up  of  eight  small 
bones  arranged  in  two  rows.  Those  muscles  which 
enable  us  to  grasp  solid  bodies  are  attached  above 
the  elbow,  and  also  along  the  two  bones  of  the  fore- 
arm. They  terminate  in  long,  slender  tendons,  which 
are  fastened  to  the  bones  of  the  thumb  and  fingers. 
The  muscular  servants  at  first  are  awkward,  but  train- 
ing enables  them  to  do  their  work  both  well  and 
rapidly.  Frequent  repetition  gives  such  ease  and 
rapidity  that  we  do  not  have  to  think  of  the  move- 


THE  HANDS.  ^ 

ments  we  are  making.  Hence  we  say  that  muscles 
have  -a  memory.  The  nerve  terminations  in  the 
fingers,  especially  at  the  ends,  are  so  numerous,  that 
the  sense  of  touch  is  very  acute.  Blind  people  learn 
tc  read  by  passing  the  finger-tips  over  raised  letters. 
A  printer  who  sets  ten  thousand  ems  in  a  day,  must 
make  not  less  than  thirty  thousand  motions  and  pos- 
sibly as  many  as  forty  thousand.  This  would  make 
his  hand  traverse  forty  or  fifty  miles  in  a  day .;  yet  by 
his  touch  he  tells  an  "  m  "  from  an  u  n,"  and  a  "  c  " 
from  a  "  t  "  instantly.  Merchants  judge  of  the  propor- 
tion of  silk,  cotton,  or  wool  in  goods  by  the  feeling, 
and  those  who  count  money  judge  of  the  genuineness 
of  coin  more  by  the  touch  than  by  sight. 

The  fingers  are  armed,  protected,  and  ornamented 
by  nails.  There  are  animals  who  have  hands  like 
man's  with  the  exception  of  the  thumb.  Said  New- 
ton, "  In  want  of  other  proofs,  the  thumb  would  con- 
vince me  of  the  existence  of  a  God.  Without  the 
thumb  the  hand  would  be  a  defective  and  incomplete 
instrument."  "  The  superior  animal  is  in  the  hand, 
the  man  is  in  the  thumb" 

Heautiful  hands  are  those  which  lift  burdens  from 
weary  shoulders,  which  smooth  the  lines  of  care  from 
anxious  faces. 

"  Beautiful  hands  are  those  that  do 
Work  that  is  earnest,  and  brave,  and  true, 
Moment  by  moment  the  long  day  through." 


CHAPTER   V. 

THE   SIDING  AND   SHINGLES. 

• 

WHEN  men  build  wooden  framework  for  houses, 
and  fill  in  between  the  studding  with  brick,  and  cover 
the  whole  with  siding,  little  do  they  think  that  they 
are  imitating  the  construction  of  our  House  Beauti- 
ful; but  they  are.  We  have  seen  this  in  studying 
the  walls  of  the  house,  and  you  will  notice  the  resem- 
blance still  more  as  we  consider  the  siding.  In  these 
later  years  builders  have  sometimes  discarded  the 
old-fashioned  weather-boarding,  and  have  substituted 
a  sheathing  of  rough  boards  covered  with  shingles, 
which  latter  overlap  each  other  as  on  a  roof,  except 
that  the  lower  ends  are  rounded  to  make  them  more 
ornamental.  They  are  then  protected  and  beautified 
by  a  coat  of  paint  of  any  desirable  color.  Although 
this  is  patterned  after  our  house,  it  does  not  begin  to 
equal  it.  Stiff  boards  fastened  on  with  -nails  are 
good  enough  for  ordinary  houses,  but  would  never  do 
for  a  house  that  can  '  walk,  and  run,  and  jump,  and  sit 
down,  bend  over  on  one  side,  and  then  on  the  other, 
and  play  ball,  and  hop-scotch,  and  do  many  wonder- 
ful things.  *  Such  a  house  ought  to  have  a  covering 
that  will  bend  and  stretch  without  tearing,  like  india- 
rubber  ;  that  is  just  what  it  does.  It  is  like  a  knit 
(38) 


WHA  T  IS  THE  COMPLEXION? 


39 


garment  that  fits  every  part  of  the  body  at  all  times. 
1  The  spaces  between  the  muscular  walls  are  filled  in 
with  fat,  and  over  this  the  siding  or  skin  is  stretched 
and  fastened,  not  with 
nails   here   and    there, 
1  but  everywhere  rather 
loosely,  so  that  in  mov- 
ing it  will  not  break  its 
fastening,     nor     tear 
apart.     We  should  not 
find  it  much  fun  to  play, 
if  we  were  all  the  time 
pulling   out    the  nails, 
or  tearing  holes  in  our 
siding, would  we  ?5  The 
sheathingofour  House 
Beautiful  is  \hzcorium, 
ortrue  skin.6  Itiscom- 
posed   of  two   layers, 
one  of  which  is  made  of 
bundles  of  fibres  inter- 
lacing with  each  other 
in     every    direction. 
7  Some  of  these  fibres 
we  find  to  be  muscular, 
and  it  is  their  business 
to  pucker  up  the  skin 
into      what     we     call 
"goose-flesh"      when 
cold  air  strikes  the  skin.     This  is  thought  by  som 
to  be  a  protection  to  the  nerves. 


ANATOMY  OF  THE  SKIN. 

The  epiderma.  2.  Its  deep  layer,  the  rete 
mucosum.  3.  Two  of  the  quadrangular 
papillary  clumps  composed  of  minute  coni- 
cal papillae,  such  as  are  seen  in  the  palm  of 
the  hand  or  sole  of  the  foot.  4.  Deep  lay- 
er of  the  derma,  the  corium.  5.  Adipose 
cells.  6.  A  sudoriparous  gland  with  its 
spiral  duct,  as  are  seen  in  the  palm  of  the 
hand  and  sole  of  the  foot.  7.  Another  su- 
doriparous gland  with  a  straighter  duct, 
such  as  is  seen  in  the  scalp.  8.  Two  hairs 
from  the  scalp,  inclosed  in  their  follicles  : 
their  relative  depth  in  the  skin  is  preserved 
9.  A  pair  of  sebaceous  glands,  opening  bj 
short  ducts  into  the  follicle  of  the  hair. 


40  THE  HO  USE  BE  A  UTIFUL. 

'  The  layer  outside  of  this  is  called  papillary,  be 
cause  it  is  made  of  little  elevations,  or  papillae,  which 
contain  the  blood-vessels  of  the  skin.  9  You  can  see 
the  rows  of  these  papillae  on  the 
ends  of  your  fingers.  I0  Above 
the  true  skin  is  a  membrane 
called  the  epidermis — epi,  upon, 
derma,  the  skin.  ll  This  is  also 

THE  PA™,.*  OK  THE  SK.M.      ma(Je    up    Q£    twQ    ^^  ;n    the 

lower  of  which  is  found  the  coloring  matter  which  gives 
the  complexion  its  tint.  In  the  negro  this  pigment,  or 
coloring  matter,  is  nearly  black.  12You  have  often  heard 
it  said  that "  beauty  is  only  skin  deep  ";  but  complexion 
is  not  skin  deep,  for  when  this  inner  layer  of  the  epider- 
mis is  removed  it  is  found  that  the  true  skin  of  the  ne- 
gro does  not  look  different  from  that  of  a  white  person. 
13  The  outer  layer  is  called  the  horny  layer.  14  It  is 
made  of  hard,  flattened  cells  overlapping  each  other, 
and  these  are  the  shingles  on  our  walls.  "  The  use 
of  the  epidermis  is  to  protect  the  true  skin,  and  it  is 
thicker  in  some  places  than  in  others,  and  grows 
thicker  by  use.  "  This  is  the  cause  of  callous  places 
on  the  hands  of  laborers.  19  Very  often  different 
parts  of  our  house  serve  more  than  one  purpose,  and 
this  is  true  of  the  skin :  it  not  only  protects  us  and 
keeps  us  warm,  but  it  also  helps  to  keep  us  cool. 

10  We  might  call  the  skin  the  manager  or  governor 
of  the  temperature  of  the  body,  which,  by  the  way, 
is  a  most  important  office,  for  if  the  blood  gets  too 
hot,  and  remains  so  for  any  great  length  of  time,  the 
owner  may  abandon  the  house  forever. 


THE  PERSPIRA  TION.  4! 

91  This  cooling  process  is  accomplished  by  the  sweat- 
glands,  which  are  located  under  the  true  skin.  2a  They 
aie  little  tubes,  which  at  one  end  open  obliquely  on 
the  surface,  and  at  the  other  end  are  coiled  up  in 
round  balls  under  the  skin.  "  If  all  these  coils  and 
tubes  were  straightened  out  and  laid  end  to  end,  they 
would  make  a  tube  over  ten  and  a  half  miles  long. 
They  are  more  numerous  in  some  parts  of  the  body 
than  in  others.  24  On  the  cheeks  there  are  about  five 
hundred,  while  on  the  forehead  there  are  more  than 
twelve  hundred  to  the  square  inch  ;  and  on  the  palms 
of  the  hand  more  than  three  thousand.  25  Upon  the 
whole  surface  of  the  body  there  are  over  two  millions 
of  these  little  doors,  through  which  vapor  is  con- 
stantly passing,  and  with  it  worn-out  material.  26  We 
don't  see  this  vapor,  and  so  it  is  called  "  insensible 
perspiration."  "  But,  invisible  as  it  is,  it  has  been 
collected  and  weighed,  and  it  is  found  that  as  much 
as  two  pounds  are  eliminated  in  twenty-four  hours. 
a8  During  severe  exercise  the  glands  act  more  rapidly, 
and  drops  of  water  collect  on  the  surface,  and  as 
much  as  four  or  five  pounds  have  been  thrown  off,  by 
a  laborer  when  working  before  a  hot  furnace,  in  an 
hour.  au  Under  the  influence  of  external  heat  the 
glands  act  in  the  same  manner,  and  protect  the  body 
from  injury  by  covering  it  with  a  coat  of  moisture, 
so  that  men  have  even  been  able  to  stay  without 
harm  in  an  oven  hot  enough  to  roast  a  piece  of  meat, 
and  actually  to  remain  until  it  was  done.  80  What  a 
wise  and  beneficent  arrangement  for  us  it  is,  that  this 
regulator  of  the  temperature  of  the  body  is  always 


42  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

on  duty,  and,  without  instruction  or  any  forethought 
on  our  part,  keeps  the  body  always  at  ninety-eight 
degrees.  31  The  watery  parts  of  the  perspiration  are 
carried  off  in  vapor,  but  the  solid  materials,  about 
five  parts  in  a  hundred,  remain  upon  the  surface  of 
the  skin,  and  tend  to  stop  up  the  mouths  of  the 
glands ;  so  we  can  readily  see  the  importance  of  fre- 
quent bathing.  32  The  great  danger  arising  from 
closing  all  of  these  mouths  at  once,  is  illustrated  by 
the  well-known  fact  of  a  little  child's  death  having 
been  caused,  by  gilding  the  whole  surface  of  its  body 
that  it  might  represent  the  "  Gilded  Age."  a4  The 
nails  are  appendages  of  the  skin,  and  have  two  layers 
like  the  epidermis.  85  The  under  layer  remains  always 
the  same,  but  the  outer  or  horny  layer  is  constantly 
growing.  J6  The  nails  are  a  protection  to  the  ends  of 
the  fingers  and  toes,  and  are  also  very  useful  in  unty- 
ing strings,  opening  pocket  knives,  and  in  doing  other 
necessary  work. 

87  In  England  houses  are  sometimes  roofed  with 
straw,  which  is  put  on  so  thick  and  close  that  it  will 
shed  rain.  This  kind  of  a  roof  is  called  a  thatch. 
88  Our  House  Beautiful  has  a  thatched  roof,  but  it  is 
made  of  hair  instead  of  straw.  This  roof  has  various 
colors:  it  may  be  brown,  or  black,  or  gray,  or  even 
white,  in  old  houses  ;  little  new  houses  have  no  thatch 
at  all.  In  very  old  houses  the  thatch  sometimes  gets 
all  worn  off.  This  we  call  being  bald-headed.  3U  We 
ought  to  take  good  care  of  our  thatch,  keeping  it 
clean,  and  brushing  it,  to  keep  it  well  oiled.  4n  There 
are  little  glands  at  the  root  of  each  hair  whose  busi- 


WHA  T  DOES  THE  BIBLE  SA  Y?  43 

ness  it  is  to  make  oil  for  it,  and  brushing  them  gently 
stimulates  them  to  work.  41  If  we  furnish  the  oil,  they 
will  get  lazy  and  make  none,  and  no  oil  is  so  nice  for 
the  hair  as  that  which  these  glands  make. 

41  There  is  a  little  thatch  over  the  windows  of  our 
house ;  in  fact,  when  we  come  to  study  into  the  mat- 
ter we  find  that  the  whole  house  is  covered  with  hairs. 
Upon  the  body  they  are  soft  and  downy,  and  almost 
colorless.  They  form  a  pretty  fringe  to  the  window- 
awnings,  and  they  grow  upon  the  faces  of  men,  and 
protect  the  throat,  and  make  a  strainer  under  the  nose 
which  we  call  a  mustache.  43  The  hair  is  an  appendage 
of  the  skin,  and  like  it  has  a  44  fibrous  substance  and 
epidermis.  "  The  downy  hairs  grow  from  the  true 
skin,  but  the  roots  of  the  larger  hairs  penetrate  much 
deeper.  48  Each  hair  rests  in  a  tiny  pocket,  at  the 
bottom  of  which  is  a  papilla  which  might  be  called 
the  mother  of  the  hair,  for  from  this  papilla  the  hair 
is  produced.  4T  Each  hair  is  a  tube,  and  the  coloring 
matter  is  in  the  centre.  48  The  root  of  the  hair  is  a 
bulb,  and  a  little  oil  bottle  empties  into  each  hair- 
pocket  or  follicle.  49  These  oil  bottles  are  termed  se- 
baceous glands,  and  they  are  found  all  over  the  body 
as  well  as  on  the  head.  60  They  help  to  keep  the  skin 
soft  and  flexible. 

51  The  Bible  says  that  the  hairs  of  our  head  are  all 
numbered,  and  one  man  has  tried  to  find  out  how  many 
there  are.  He  did  not  count  every  hair,  but  he 
counted  how  many  grew  on  a  square  inch,  and  from 
that  he  made  an  estimate  that  there  are  one  hundred 
and  twenty  thousand  hairs  upon  the  head. 


44  THE  HOUSE  BE  A  UTIFUL. 

St.  Paul  says  that  long  hair  is  a  glory  to  a  woman, 
and  all  women  are  justly  proud  of  a  wealth  of  long, 
soft  hair.  It  is  not  often  that  hair  grows  longer  than 
three  feet,  but  I  once  saw  a  woman  whose  hair 
leached  the  ground.  Men  are  equally  proud  of  a 
long  beard.  The  ancient  patriarchs  are  represented 
with  snowy  beards  reaching  down  over  their  breasts. 
I  once  saw  a  beard  three  feet  long.  The  beard  was 
held  in  great  honor  by  the  old  Romans.  Once  when 
a  horde  of  northern  barbarians  invaded  Rome  the  old 
men  of  the  senate  sat  motionless  until  one  of  the 
Vandals  plucked  a  senator  by  the  beard.  The  indig- 
nant Roman  avenged  the  insult  by  striking  the  in, 
suiter  dead,  and  universal  carnage  began.  The  beard 
was  given  man  as  a  protection  as  well  as  an  ornament, 
and  should  never  be  shaven.  A  great  deal  of  poetry 
has  been  written  about  hair,  from  the  golden  baby 
curls  to  the  "frosty  pow"  of  age.  Gray  hairs  come 
with  years  and  cares,  but  we  should  never  feel 
ashamed  of  them,  for  "  the  hoary  head  is  a  crown  of 
glory." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   OBSERVATORY. 

WE  have  watched  our  House  Beautiful  as  it  ad- 
vanced through  the  various  stages  of  erection,  from 
the  foundations  up  through  the  framework  and  walls 
to  the  outside  covering,  and  now  we  begin  to  ask 
how  it  is  to  be  completed.  '  And  we  find  that  this 
wonderful  structure  is  surmounted  by  an  observatory 
more  marvellous  than  any  other  part  of  the  building. 
1  For  it  is  here  that  the  Master  resides.  It  is  quite 
fashionable  to  have  a  portion  even  of  private  resi- 
dences extend  above  the  rest,  and  to  this  is  given 
the  name  of  an  observatory.  Generally,  there  are 
windows  on  all  sides,  and  often  the  roof  is  a  dome  of 
glass,  so  that  the  observer  may  look,  not  only  on 
every  side,  but  also  at  the  heavens  above. 

The  observatory  which  crowns  the  House  Beauti- 
ful is  a  marvellous  structure ;  its  walls  are  more  com- 
plicated than  those  of  any  other  part  of  the  house. 
1  They  are  made  of  twenty-two  bones  firmly  locked 
together  so  as  to  make  them  very  solid. 

I  said  all  locked  together.  4  But  there  is  one  bone 
that  is  movable,  and  only  one.  That  is  the  one 
which  forms  the  lower  framework  of  the  pink  fold- 
ing-doors, we  call  it  the  lower-jaw.  Did  you  ever 
think  that  when  you  chew  your  food,  you  do  not 
4  (45) 


^5  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

move  your  upper-jaw  at  all  ?  6  The  lower-jaw  is 
joined  to  the  rest  of  the  skull  by  a  movable  joint  a 
little  in  front  of  the  ears.  You  can  feel  it  if  you  put 
your  finger  there  and  open  and  shut  your  mouth. 
8  The  bones  of  the  skull  are  divided  into  those  of  the 
face  and  those  of  the  cranium.  7  The  cranium  is 
formed  of  eight  thin,  beautifully  curved  bones.  8  The 


THE  SKULL 

i.   Frontal  bone.     2.  Parietal.     3.  Occipital.     4.  Temporal.      5.   Nasal.     6.  Malar. 
7.  Upper  Maxillary.     8.  Ethmoid.     9.  Lower  Maxillary. 

one  at  the  back  is  called  \.\\z  occipital.  If  you  should 
ever  hear  that  some  one  had  injured  his  occiput,  you 
would  know  that  that  meant  the  back  of  the  head. 
"The  sides  of  the  head  are  formed  by  \wo>  parietal 
and  two  temporal  bones.  10  The  upper  and  front  part 
is  formed  by  the  frontal  bone  which  makes  the  arches 
over  the  two  windows. 


THE  ATLAS.  47 

11  On  the  outside,  the  skull  is  covered  with  a  tough 
membrane  called  the  scalp,  to  which  is  attached  the 
beautiful  thatch  which  we  know  as  the  hair.  12  As 
we  examine  this  observatory,  we  are  struck  with  the 
fact  that  there  are  no  skylights,  and  only  two  win- 
dows, and  they  are  both  close  together  and  on  the 
same  side. 

How,  with  this  arrangement,  is  the  observer  to  ob- 
tain an  extended  view?  "The  Architect  knew  well 
what  He  was  doing  when  He  mounted  the  observa- 
tory on  the  short,  slender,  circular  tower  known  as 
the  neck.  You  remember  how,  in  the  fable,  the  giant 
Atlas  held  up  the  sky  on  his  head  and  shoulders. 
H  Our  observatory  has  an  atlas  to  hold  it  up,  but  it  is 
not  a  giant,  only  a  ring  of  bone. 

15  It  is  the  very  upper  vertebra.  "  It  differs  from 
other  vertebra  in  not  having  so  much  bony  material, 
but  having  instead,  a  larger  hole  in  the  centre. 
17  This  hole  is  divided  by  a  band.  16  Behind  this  band 
the  spinal  cord  passes  down  into  the  other  vertebrae 
below,  and  in  19  front  of  it  a  bony  point  of  the  second 
vertebra  passes  up  and  so  makes  a  pivot  on  which  tb? 
observatory  can  turn  round.  21  This  second  verte- 
bra is  called  the  axis. 

92  The  atlas  has  two  cup-like  depressions  on  its  upper 
surface  upon  which  fit  two  points  of  the  occipital 
bone  when  the  head  is  tipped  backward.  98  The  neck 
is  formed  of  various  muscles,  whom  we  will  call  ser- 
vants, whose  a4  business  it  is  to  move  the  head  in 
many  directions;  a5  so  that  our  observatory  can  be 
turned  half  round  from  one  side  to  the  other,  it  can 


THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 


be  tipped  forward  so  that  the  windows  look  toward 
the  ground,  or  it  can  be  tipped  backward  so  26  that 
the  windows  are  directed  heavenward,  and  thus  no 
skylights  are  needed. 

27  The  cavity  of  the  skull  is  so  irregular  in  shape 
that   it  is  difficult   to   tell  how  large  it  is,  but  it  is 

quite  large  enough 
to  hold  a  quart  or 
three  pints  of  fluid. 
And  what  does  this 
cavity  contain? 
Something  which  has 
excited  the  wonder 
and  admiration  of 
the  wisest  men  of 
the  world.  During 
centuries  men  have 
studied  it,  and  yet 
not  much  has  been 
learned  about  it. 
28  We  know  it  under 

«,  a.  The  scalp  turned  down,  b,  b.  Cut  edges  the  term  brain.  It 
of  the  skull  bones.  3.  The  dura  mater  sus-  jg  very  difficult  to 
pended  by  a  hook.  4.  The  left  hemisphere. 

give    in    writing   a 

clear  idea  of  the  brain,  even  of  its  appearance  and 
shape.  If  you  could  see  a  brain  you  would  be  better 
able  to  understand  it,  but  as  you  can  not  we  must  be 
content  to  learn  all  we  can  by  a  description.  29  First, 
we  find  that  the  bony  cavity  of  the  skull  is  lined 
with  a  dense  fibrous  membrane  called  the  dura 
mater. 


THE  BRAIN. 


THE  BRAIN.  .  49 

80  You   have  studied   Latin,   and    will    be    able    to 
translate  that,  hard  or  durable  mother. 

81  Inside  of  this  is  a  delicate  fibrous  membrane  almost 
like  a  spider's  web  for  thinness,  and  on  that  account 
is  called  the  arachnoid.     This  will  recall  to  your  mind 
the  fable  of  the  Princess  Arachne,  who  was  famed  for 
spinning,   and     because    she    rivalled    Minerva  was 
changed  by  that  goddess  into  a  spider. 

32  Inside  of  the  arachnoid  is  a  delicate  fibrous  mem- 
brane full  of  blood-vessels  which  is  called  the  pia 
mater,  or  soft  mother. 

And  now  we  come  to  the  brain  itself.  How  shall  I 
describe  it  to  you  ?  33  A  great  French  writer  says  it  is 
like  a  beautiful  white  camellia,  and  calls  it  the  flower  of 
flowers.  That  is  very  pretty,  and  yet  it  does  not  give  us 
a  very  definite  idea,  as  to  its  appearance.  The  brain  of 
a  chicken,  calf,  or  other  animal  would  give  you  some 
idea  of  how  the  brain  of  a  man  looks.  S4  You  would 
see  that  it  is  a  rounded  mass,  not  unlike  dough  in 
color,  not  smooth  on  the  outside,  but  with  a  great 
many  little  creases  all  over  the  surface.  It  is  crum- 
pled, or  folded  up,  to  fit  into  the  irregular  space,  and 
if  stretched  out  smooth,  it  would  spread  over  a  far 
greater  surface. 

A  baby's  brain  is  more  nearly  smooth  on  its  outer 
surface  than  that  of  a  man.  As  the  baby  learns  and 
increases  in  intelligence,  its  brain  becomes  more 
wrinkled.  8fl  The  number  and  depth  of  these  creases 
or  wrinkles  are  in  proportion,  it  is  said,  to  the  in- 
telligence of  the  person. 

17  The  brain  is  composed  of  white  88  matter  on  the 
3 


50  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

inside,  and  gray  matter  on  the  outside.  "  The  gray 
matter  is  made  up  of  cells,  *°  and  in  them  is  generated 
a  force  which  we  call  nerve  force.  These  cells  are  oi 
two  sizes,  and  it  is  thought  that  the  Larger  ones  direct 
muscular  movement,  and  the  smaller  ones  control 
the  powers  of  thought,  but  this  can  not  be  proven. 
41  The  white  matter  is  made  of  fibres,  and  conducts 
the  nerve  force  from  the  cells.  °  The  brain  substance 
is  soft,  almost  like  jelly,  only  it  has  these  white  fibres 
running  through  it.  So  if  we  had  a  fine  gray  jelly, 
with  white  threads  through  it,  it  would  be  very  much 
like  the  brain  in  consistency. 

43  At  birth  the  brain  of  a  boy  weighs  about  eleven 
ounces,  that  of  a  girl  ten  ounces.  A  man's  brain 
weighs  about  forty-nine  ounces,  that  of  a  woman 
forty-four.  Some  people  think  that  the  size  of  the 
brain  has  much  to  do  with  the  intellect  of  the  person, 
and  they  tell  of  the  brain  of  Daniel  Webster,  and  of 
that  of  Abercrombie,  each  of  which  weighed  nearly 
sixty-four  ounces,  or  nearly  four  pounds. 

But  Gambetta  was  certainly  a  great  man,  and  his 
brain,  as  has  been  reported  in  the  papers,  weighed 
less  than  that  of  an  average  woman.  When  we 
study  the  different  parts  of  the  brain,  we  find  that 
the  very  important  parts  called  the  medulla  oblon- 
gata  and  pons  varolii  are  larger  in  women  than  in 
men,  weighing  in  men  ninety-eight  hundredths  of 
an  ounce,  in  women  over  an  ounce. 

I  guess  after  all  that  it  is  quality,  not  quantity,  that 
determines  the  working  power  and  value  of  brain,  and 


GREAT  BRAIN  OR  CEREBRUM.  ^ 

it  makes  little  difference  whether  that  brain  be- 
longs to  a  man  or  a  woman. 

44 The  brain  is  divided  into  the  great  brain,45  which 
occupies  the  upper  and  front  part  of  the  cavity  of  the 
skull, and  is  eight-tenths  of  the  wholemass,46  and  the 
small  brain,  which  is  located  at  the  lower  part  or  base 
of  the  skull.  "  The  two  are  connected  by  a  bridge 
called  \\\e  pans  varolii,  because  a  man  named  Varolius 
first  described  it.  What  girl  ever  dreamed  that  she 
had  a  bridge  in  her  head.  Is  it  any  wonder  that  she 
should  sometimes  have  the  headache?  The  lower 
brain  is  connected  with  the  spinal  cord  by  a  portion 
called  the  medulla  oblongata. 

The  cells  of  the  brain  are  little  points  of  matter, 
lik*e  jelly,  each  with  a  dot  in  the  centre.  There  are 
nearly  a  billion  of  them.  Does  not  that  make  you 
exclaim,  "  Upon  my  word  !  "  Some  of  these  cells 
have  one,  two,  or  three  tails,  while  others  are  tailless. 
18  They  are  held  together  by  these  tails.  "  Where  a 
number  of  them  collect  in  a  cluster  they  are  called  a 
ganglion,  plural  ganglia.  60  The  white  fibres  connect 
not  only  the  cells,  but  the  ganglia,  and  thus  form  a 
kind  of  battery.  And  what  is  a  battery?  If  we  dis- 
solve bi-sulphate  of  mercury  in  water,  and  then  put 
into  it  a  piece  of  zinc  and  another  of  carbon,  the  fluid 
will  eat  up  the  zinc.  This  we  call  a  chemical  action, 
and  by  it  is  produced  an  invisible  fluid,  which  we  can 
feel  if  we  attach  a  piece  of  metal  to  both  carbon  and 
zinc.  This  fluid  we  call  electricity,  and  we  can  con- 
duct it  along  a  wire  any  distance  and  make  it  carry 
messages  for  us  to  every  part  of  the  world.  61  The 


52  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

cells  of  the  brain  and  spinal  cord  act  as  such  a  bat- 
tery producing  a  nervous  fluid,  which  is  conducted 
along  the  white  fibres,  and  52by  this  means  the 
owner  of  the  house  is  enabled  to  communicate  with 
all  parts  of  his  dwelling,  as  well  as  with  the  out- 
side world. 


NOTE. —  Some  substances  seem  to  be  peculiarly  injuri- 
ous to  the  cells  of  the  brain,  and  among  the  most  harmful, 
tobacco  stands  first. 

Dr.  Seaver  of  Yale  College  is  waging  war  upon  the  habit 
of  tobacco  smoking.  He  is  the  physician  of  the  college 
and  the  professor  of  athletics,  a  man  of  science  who  fol- 
lows scientific  methods  in  any  investigation  he  undertakes. 
He  has  been  engaged  for  eight  years  in  observing  the  ef- 
fects of  tobacco  smoking  upon  the  bodies  and  minds  of  Yale 
students,  and  he  has  just  published  a  remarkable  budget  of 
statistics.  Dr.  Seaver  informs  the  public  that  the  students 
of  Yale  who  indulge  in  tobacco  smoking  are  inferior  in 
physical  vigor  and  mental  ability  to  those  who  do  not. 
According  to  his  reckoning,  the  smokers  have  less  lung 
power  than  the  anti-smokers;  they  have  less  chest-inflating 
capacity;  they  are  of  less  bodily  weight,  and  they  are  even 
of  less  height.  The  muscular  and  nervous  power  of  the 
smoking  students  is  noticeably  less  than  that  of  the  anti- 
smoking.  From  an  athletic  point  of  view,  therefore,  the 
Yale  professor  of  athletics  considers  himself  justified  in 
waging  war  upon  the  tobacco  habit.  Not  only  in  a  phys- 
ical way,  but  also  in  an  intellectual  way,  the  Yale  smokers 
are  inferior  to  the  anti-smokers.  The  smoking  habit  is 
disadvantageous  to  scholarship.  Of  those  students  who, 
within  a  given  time,  have  received  junior  appointments, 
only  5  per  cent  were  smokers,  and  very  few  smokers  re- 
ceived appointments  of  any  kind.  It  would  seem,  there- 
fore, that  the  brain  power  and  the  scholarship  of  the 
smokers  at  Yale  are  far  inferior  to  those  of  the  anti- 
smokers.  The  demonstrations  of  Dr.  Seaver  appear  to  be 
influencing  Yale  students.  He  is  able  to  report  that  70 
per  cent  of  the  senior  class  in  the  college  do  not  smoke, 
and  the  leading  athletes  do  not  smoke,  and  that  not  a  sin- 
gle candidate  for  the  rowing  crew  is  a  smoker. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

THE   HALL. 

A  GREAT  number  of  visitors  who  come  to  our 
House  Beautiful  are  intending  to  go  to  the  kitchen. 
1  They  enter  by  the  front  door,  perhaps  I  should  say 
doors,  for  there  are  two  of  them.  a  They  are,  or  ought 
to  be,  of  a  bright  red  color,  and  they  can  do  many 
remarkably  things.  3  They  can  whistle.  "  Whistle  ?' 
Yes.  "  Doors  squeak  sometimes,  but  I  never  knew 
a  door  to  whistle."  These  doors  do  not  squeak.  The 
hinges  never  get  rusty.  They  oil  themselves.  But 
they  can  do  disagreeable  things:  they  can  whisper, 
and  they  can  pout ;  but  then  they  can  kiss. 

4  The  bright  red  covering  of  the  lips  is  called  mu- 
cous membrane,  and  like  the  skin  it  is  made  up  of 
two  layers.  6  It  is  more  delicate  than  the  skin,  and 
lines  all  cavities  which  communicate  with  the  outer 
air.  As  the  folding-doors  open  we  see  a  double  row 
of  attendants  waiting  to  receive  all  visitors.  When 
\ve  enter  the  office  of  a  hotel,  we  find  the  clerk  ready 
to  answer  our  questions  and  to  assign  us  a  room. 
A  servant  hastens  forward  to  take  our  satchel  and 
wraps,  and  another  to  show  us  to  a  room,  and  when 
being  so  waited  upon  we  feel  that  we  are  of  some  im 
portance. 

(53) 


54 


THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 


6  Visitors  to  the  House  Beautiful  are  received  by 
thirty-two  attendants,  all  in  white  uniforms,  who 
proceed  at  once  to  remove  the  wraps  of  the  visitors, 
and  to  prepare  them  to  appear  before  the  cook  in  the 
kitchen,  who  is  quite  particular  about  his  guests. 
These  thirty-two  attendants  you  will  have  no  diffi- 
culty in  recognizing  as  the  teeth.  T  The  four  in  the 
centre  are  called  the  incisors.  8  On  each  side  of  these 


c  d  e  f  g  h 

PERMANENT  TEKTH. 

a.  Central  incisor,     b.  Lateral  incisor,     c.  Cuspid,  or  canine,     d.  First  bi-cuspid. 
*    Second  bi-cuspid.    f.  First  molar,    g.  Second  Molar,     h.  Third  Molar. 

are  sharp,  strong  fellows,  who  are  called  eye-teeth, 
or  canines,  because  they  look  like  the  great  tearing 
teeth  of  the  dog.  *  Next  stand  two,  which  are  called 
bi-cuspids  (two-pointed),  because  their  roots  have  two 
points ;  10  and  next  to  these  are  three  strong,  broad 
fellows,  called  molars  or  grinders.  "  When  food  is 
put  into  the  mouth  the  incisors  cut  it,  the  canines 
tear  it,  and  the  molars  grind  it ;  and  that  is  not  all 


THE  SALIVARY  GLANDS.  55 

for  back  of  this  double  row  of  soldierly  guards  is  one 
in  a  pink  uniform,  who  rolls  the  food  over  and  around 
and  says  "  That  tastes  good."  We  might  be  afraid  of 
him  did  we  not  see  that  he  is  fastened  to  the  floor. 
He  has  an  important  work  to  do,  but  our  business 
just  now  is  with  the  strong  white  teeth. 


THE  SALIVARY  GLANDS. 

i.  The  parotid  gland,  extending  fiom  the  zygomatic  arch  of  the  cheek-bone  to  the 
angle  of  the  jaw  below.  2.  Duct  of  the  parotid  gland.  3.  The  sub-maxil'.arji 
gland.  4.  Its  duct.  5.  Sub-lingual  gland. 

18  In  little  new  houses  we  find  none  of  these  attend- 
ants, for  their  visitors  have  no  wraps  to  be  removed, 
and  do  not  need  to  be  ground  and  forced  to  be  fine 
enough  to  be  presented  to  the  cook.  1S  But  a  number 
of  other  active  assistants  are  connected  with  the  hall. 
They  are  very  valuable  helpers  of  the  cook.  Their 
family  name  is  saliva,  and  their  home  is  in  the  sali- 


5  6  THE  HOUSE  BE  A  UTIFUL, 

vary  glands.  These  glands  are  called  sub-lingnalt 
meaning  under  the  tongue ;  sub -maxillary,  under  the 
jaw :  and  the  parotid,  near  the  ear. 

Down  in  the  dining-room 
appear  other  assistants,  who 
are  ready  to  perform  their 
work,  and  need  the  help  of 
the  saliva;  M  and  then  some 
little  fellows,  who  have  been 
lying  asleep  in  little  cradles 
in  the  gums,  wake  up  and 

T^AT?*vriri   fit  Aisirt  ii" 

begin  to  push  their  way  out 

into  the  world.  15  Twenty  of  them  come  one  after  an- 
other, ten  above  and  ten  below, 16  and  then  baby  is  ready 
to  begin  to  receive  the  same  kind  of  company  as  grown 
people.  Then,  and  not  till  then,  can  he  eat  firm,  dry 
foods ;  l7  for  without  a  mixture  of  saliva,  I8  starch  can 
not  be  digested,  for  starch  must  be  changed  into  sugar 
before  it  can  be  used  in  building  up  the  house,  19  and 
this  is  done  by  the  saliva.  It  also  makes  dry  food  slip- 
pery, so  that  it  can  be  easily  swallowed.  About  three 
pints  of  saliva  are  secreted  in  twenty-four  hours.  2"  Un- 
der these  twenty  teeth  there  are  thirty-two  other 
teeth,  also  asleep  in  their  pretty  pink  cradles ;  and 
after  seven  years  or  so  they  begin  to  want  to  see  the 
world,  and  one  after  another  they  push  at  the  first 
teeth  above,  until  they  get  loose  and  fall  out. 

I  think  we  ought  to  be  very  thankful  to  these  sec- 
ond teeth  that  they  do  not  all  grow  at  once,  and  so, 
perhaps,  leave  us  for  a  while  with  neither  the  old 
teeth  nor  the  new  ones.  They  take  it  quite  leisurely. 


THE  TEETH. 


57 


11  The  first  to  appear  is  the  first  molar,  at  about  six 
years  of  age.  i2  The  middle  incisors  come  at  about 
seven  years  of  age.  23  The  other  incisors  at  eight. 
Then,  at  about  nine  years,  come  the  first  24bi-cuspids; 
and  the  second  bi-cuspids  at  ten.  The  canines  make 
their  appearance  at  eleven  or  twelve,  the  second  mo- 
lars at  twelve  or  thirteen,  while  the  last,  or  wisdom 


INFANT  TEETH  AND  RUDIMENTS  OF  THE  PERMANENT. 

teeth,  do  not  come  until  from  the  seventeenth  to  the 
twenty-second  year  or  later. 

26  There  are  no  more  teeth  asleep  beneath  this  sec- 
ond set,  and  when  they  leave  us  we  shall  have  no 
teeth,  unless  we  get  the  dentist  to  make  us  some, 
and,  skilful  as  he  may  be,  he  can  not  do  quite  as  well 
as  the  Great  Architect  did.  26  The  teeth  are  not  bone, 
but  a  fine  quality  of  ivory.  They  are  appendages  of 


58  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

the  mucous  membrane,  just  as  the  hair  and  nails  are 
appendages  of  the  skin.  "  Each  tooth  sets  in  a  pocket 
in  the  gum,  which  is  lined  with  mucous  membrane. 

The  white  coat  of  the  teeth  is  a  hard  substance, 
called  enamel.  29  Inside  of  this  is  the  substance  of 
the  tooth,  which  is  a  hard  material,  called  dentine  or 
tooth-ivory.  30  This  is  hollow,  and  within  its  cavity 
are  blood-vessels  and  nerves. 

31  The  part  of  the  tooth  which  we  see  is  called  the 
crown,  that  which  is  enclosed  in  the  gum  is  the  fang, 
and  between  these  is  the  narrow  part  called  the  neck. 

32  We  sometimes  see  these  worthy  assistants  with 
uniforms  discolored  and  stained,  with  holes  in  them, 
and  looking  altogether  quite  disagreeably  neglected. 
As  we  can  not  have  them  renewed  when  they  wear  out 
we  ought  to  take  the  best  of  care  of  them.    If  food  is 
allowed  to  hide  between  the  teeth  it  decays  and  causes 
the  teeth  to  decay,  and  it  should  therefore  never  be 
permitted  to  remain,  and  at  the  same  time  it  should 
never  be  harshly  removed.     Pins  or  metal  toothpicks 
wear  out  the  enamel,  and  so  do  great  injury.     Quill 
or  wooden  toothpicks  are  the  only  ones  that  should 
be  employed.     These  pretty,  useful  servants  should 
not  be  used  for  such  work  as  cracking  nuts,  for  they 
may  be  broken  or  the  enamel  cracked,  in  so  doing. 
They  like  to  have  a  bath  every  day,  and  to  be  scrub- 
bed with  a  soft  brush  and  soap, — nice  white  soap,  or 
a  powder  made  of  soda  and  myrrh, — and  if  so  care 
fully  attended  will  take  great  pride  in  peeping  out, 
with  their  shining  white  faces,  from  behind  the  rosy 
folding-doors. 


CHAPTER  VIIL 

THE   KITf  HEN. 

As  we  pass  the  white  attendants  who  welcomed  us 
we  enter  the  hall  and  looking  around  we  see  pink 
walls  on  either  side,  and  over  these  a  beautiful  arched 
roof  called  the  roof  of  the  mouth  or  the  hard  palate. 
At  the  back  of  the  hall  hangs  a  pink  curtain,  and 
beneath  it  is  an  arched  doorway,  and  from  the  mid- 
dle of  the  arch  we  see  hanging  down  a  "  little  red 
tongue."  '  This  "  little  tongue  "  is  called  the  uvula  and 
has  an  important  office.  Passing  under  the  arched 
doorway  we  enter  a  room,  which  has  no  floor,  and 
which  is  called  the  pJiarynx.  In  the  roof  of  the 
pharynx  is  an  opening  leading  into  the  nose.  This 
opening  is  just  back  of  the  uvula.  When  food  is 
being  swallowed,  the  two  halves  of  the  pink  curtain 
in  the  back  of  the  hall  are  drawn  together,  and  at 
the  same  time  the  uvula  is  stretched  back  and  closes 
the  opening  into  the  nose,  so  that  the  food  can  not 
find  an  entrance  there.  There  are  two  pairs  of  stairs 
leading  out  of  the  pharynx.  One  pair  of  these  stairs 
is  called  the  (esophagus  and  leads  into  the  kitchen. 
*  These  are  very  queer  stairs,  indeed.  You  did  not 
see  any  place  to  go  down,  for  the  walls  of  the  oesoph- 
agus lie  close  together ;  but  3  as  the  food  passed 

(59) 


6o 


THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 


into    the    pharynx,    an    opening    appeared    in    the 

back  part  of  the 
throat,  and  the 
food  began  to  de- 
scend. Do  you 
notice,  as  we  go 
down,  that  the 
walls  expand  and 
then  close  behind 
us  to  push  us  in? 
Such  a  getting 
down-stairs  as  that 
you  never  did  see! 
4  When  we  reach 
the  bottom  we 
find  a  little  round 
door  held  to- 
gether by  a  "puck- 
ering string";  and 
when  it  opens  we 
find  ourselves 
looking  down  into 
the  kitchen  from 
the  ceiling.  How 
are  we  to  get  into 
the  room  ?  We 
must  just  drop 

t.    Upper  Jaw.      2.    Lower  Jaw.      3.    Tongue.      4 

Hard  Palate.      5.    CEsophagus.     6.    Trachea.      7.     U  O  W  n.  Well, 

Parotid  gland.     8.  Sub-maxillary  gland.     9.  Stom-     +-J-»gf    fc 
ach.      10.   Liver,     n.   Gall-bladder.      12.  Hepatic 
duct.      13.    Duodenum.      14.    Pylorus.      15.    Small 


16- 


Oh !    you  don't 


intestines.     16.    Ileo-coccal  valve.     17.  Ascending     ]<now 
colon.      18.    Transverse  colon.      19.    Descending 
colon.     20.  Rectum. 


strange  things  we 


THE  KITCHEN.  6l 

shall  see  in  this  house.  It  is  more  wonderful  than 
any  fairy  castle  you  ever  heard  of.  And  the  best 
about  it  is,  that  all  I  tell  you  is  true.  Now  we  are  in 
the  kitchen,  and  the  door  in  the  ceiling  above  us  has 
closed.  We  look  about  us.  This  foom  is  unlike  any 
you  were  ever  in.  8  It  is  not  quite  oval,  but,  as  scien- 
tific men  say,  it  is  "  irregularly  conical."  The  floor 
is  not  flat,  and  there  is  not  a  corner  in  it.  It  is  a 


FOLLICLES  OF  THE  STOMACH. 

good  deal  like  the  inside  of  an  egg  in  shape,  but  not 
in  color;  for  it  is  a  pretty  pink,  or  it  should  be. 
Sometimes  when  you  do  not  use  it  well  it  gets  a  fiery 
red.  It  was  quite  small  when. we  came  in,  but  did 
you  notice  that  it  began  at  once  to  grow  larger? 
You  have  read  of  enchanted  castles,  where  rooms 
grow  smaller;  and  this  one  grows  to  accommodate 
the  master  of  the  house ;  for  it  certainly  is  an  accom- 

5 


62  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

modation  to  have  the  kitchen  get  bigger  when  you 
send  a  quantity  of  food  into  it ;  and  then,  after  the 
food  is  all  cooked  and  sent  to  the  dining-room,  it 
grows  smaller  and  folds  itself  up  as  it  was  when  we 
came  in.  How  does  it  do  it  ?  7  Do  you  see  that 
the  walls  are  not  smooth,  but  have  folds  in  them  r 
'  That  is  so,  it  can  stretch  ;  and  when  the  kitchen  is 
full  the  walls  are  smooth.  Put  on  your  big  spectacles 
and  look  around. 

9  "  Oh !  the  walls  are  full  of  little  pits  or  hollows. 
And  they  are  all  over  the  floor,  too !  Some  have  six 
sides,  and  some  have  more."  Yes ;  it  looks  a  little 
like  a  honeycomb.  Those  hollows  are  the  kitchen 
cupboards.  "  And  where  is  the  cook  ?  "  When  the 
kitchen  is  empty  he  is  never  there ;  but  as  soon  as 
we  send  down  a  particle  of  food  to  be  prepared,  he 
comes  and  opens  the  cupboards  and  takes  out  what 
he  needs,  and  goes  to  work.  "  What  is  his  name  ?  " 
Gastric  Juice.  "  But  what  is  the  matter?  "  The  kitch- 
en  is  beginning  to  move.  14  There  are  three  walls  to 
this  room  ;  one  outside  of  the  other.  The  pink  in- 
side wall  is  called  a  mucous  membrane,  the  outside 
wall  is  a  serous  membrane,  and  between  these  is  a 
muscular  coat,  which  is  made  up  of  three  layers 
15  which  have  the  power  of  contracting  and  expand- 
ing. la  The  outside  layer  contracts  the  long  way  of 
the  kitchen,  the  middle  layer  the  short  way,  and  the 
inside  layer  contracts  diagonally.  "  And  this  drawing 
together  and  stretching  out  of  the  walls  gives  the 
contents  of  the  kitchen  a  churning  motion,  back- 
ward, forward,  and  "  all  through  other,"  as  I  have 
heard  people  say. 


COLD   WATER  PUTS  THE  FIRE  OUT. 


You  all  know  by  this  time  that  the  kitchen  is  the 
stomach,  and  the  cook  is  the  fluid  which  digests  the 
food.  18  This  fluid  is  thoroughly  mixed  with  the  food 
by  the  churning-  motion,  which  continues  as  long  as 
there  is  anything  in  the  stomach.  lfl  The  cook  has  a 
great  deal  of  work  to  do,  breaking  up  the  meat  and 
vegetables  and  dissolving  some  parts  of  them.  After 
two  or  three  hours  he  has  mixed  them  up  so  thor- 
oughly that  you  could  not  tell  meat  from  potatoes. 


Front  view  of  the  stom- 
ach, showing  the 
greater  extremity  and 
the  pylonc  extremity. 
A  portion  of  the  peri 
toneal  coat  is  turned 
back  to  show  the  mus 
cular  fibres,  i.  An- 
terior face  of  the 
oesophagus.  6  A  por- 
tion of  the  longitudi- 
nal fibres.  7.  The 
circular  fibres.  8. 
Oblique  muscular  fi- 
bres. 9.  Portion  ol 
the  duodenum. 


J0  At  the  end  of  the  room  opposite  the  door  where 
we  entered  there  is  another  door,  also  held  shut  by 
d  string  (which  is  called  a  sphincter  muscle),  and  this 
leads  into  a  second  kitchen,  where  there  are  other 
assistants  of  the  cook,  about  whom  we  will  learn  in 
our  next  chapter. 

21  We  have  been  talking  about  solid  foods,  and  now 
I  will  tell  you  something  odd  about  what  is  done 
with  fluids  which  we  send  into  the  kitchen.  22  The 
walls  drink  them  up.  "  How  queer ! "  M  Yes  ;  and  the 


64  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

cook  does  not  like  to  have  much  fluid  sent  while  he 
is  at  work,  as  he  must  wait  till  the  walls  have  ab- 
sorbed it  before  he  can  go  on  with  his  cooking. 
"  Then,  too,  if  the  fluids  are  cold,  like  ice-water,  they 
put  his  fire  out,  and  he  has  to  wait  until  it  is  built 
up  again.  "  He  can  not  work  unless  his  kitchen  is 
at  a  temperature  of  about  ninety-eight  degrees  Fah- 
renheit, and  that  we  should  call  summer  weather. 
The  kitchen  is  kept  at  that  temperature  all  the  year 
round,  no  matter  how  cold  it  is  out-of-doors,  or  how 
hot.  What  are  the  practical  things  we  can  learn  from 
this  visit  to  the  kitchen  of  the  House  Beautiful? 
26  First,  that  we  ought  to  chew  our  food  thoroughly, 
so  that  it  will  become  mixed  with  saliva,  and  as  much 
starch  as  possible  be  changed  into  sugar  before  it 
goes  into  the  stomach;  for  Gastric  Juice  does  not 
digest  starch.  That  the  big  guard  in  the  red  uniform 
deceives  us  sometimes.  He  gets  used  to  very  un- 
pleasant things,  such  as  tobacco  and  alcohol,  and  says 
they  are  good  ;  or  he  is  very  fond  of  sweets,  and 
coaxes  us  to  eat  too  much  of  them,  and  Gastric  Juice 
rebels,  and  says  he  has  too  much  to  do.  So  we 
should  not  always  listen  to  what  he  says.  l7  Then 
we  should  not  send  too  much  food  into  the  kitchen, 
even  if  it  is  wholesome,  or  the  cook  will  get  too  tired 
to  do  his  work  well.  ™  We  should  not  send  down 
food  at  all  times  of  the  day  or  night,  but  should  be 
kind  to  the  poor  cook,  who  does  his  best  foi  us  all 
the  time,  and  who  needs  rest  as  well  as  we.  30  When 
he  is  busy  at  work  we  should  not  put  his  fire  out  with 
cold  water. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

THE  BUTLER'S  PANTRY. 

BETWEEN  the  kitchen  and  dining-room  in  our 
House  Beautiful  is  a  very  small  room,  which  I  have 
called  the  butler's  pantry.  The  door  between  this 
room  and  the  kitchen  is,  by  scientific  people,  known 
as  a  sphincter  muscle ;  but  you  will  understand  it 
better  if  I  say  it  is  like  an  elastic  puckering  string  in 
the  top  of  a  bag.  If  you  pull  it  open  it  draws  itself 
shut.  l  This  door  is  called  the  pylorus,  a  word  made 
of  two  Greek  words,  *  meaning  a  guard,  and  a  gate, 
and  that  is  just  what  the  pylorus -is:  both  a  guard  and 
a  gate. 

8  As  fast  as  Gastric  Juice  prepares  the  food  it  is 
strained  through  this  gate  into  the  pantry.  The 
churning  motion  of  the  stomach  sends  the  food  round 
and  round,  and  the  pylorus  knows  just  what  to  let 
pass  through  his  gate.  4  If  a  particle  of  food  is  not 
thoroughly  cooked  or  digested  it  is  sent  back  for  Gas- 
tric Juice  to  work  at  some  more.  B  But  if  it  be  some- 
thing that  will  not  digest,  as  a  prune-pit,  and  it  keeps 
presenting  itself  at  the  gate  demanding  to  be  let 
pass,  after  a  while  the  pylorus  becomes  irritated,  and 
opens  the  gate  for  the  offending  substance.  Just  as 
mammas  sometimes  become  vexed  by  the  teasing  of 
their  children,  and  permit  them  to  have  what  at  first 

(65) 


66 


THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 


they  refused.    It  is  not  wise  in  mammas  to  do  so,  but 

the  poor  pylorus 
does  the  best  it  can. 
If  this  happens  often 
the  "pylorus  becomes 
continually  angry  or 
irritated,  and  grum- 
bles even  when  good, 
well-digested  food 
asks  to  pass  by,  and 
so  the  master  of  the 
house  is  made  to 
suffer  pain.  It  some- 
times happens  that 
very  dangerous  ene- 
mies gain  admittance 
to  the  kitchen  and 
threaten  the  7life  of 
the  master.  Then, 
if  possible  to  do  so, 
the  pylorus,  recog- 
nizing the  murder, 
o  u  s  character  of 
these  guests,  shuts 
up  tight,  and  says: 
"You  shall  not 


VITAL  SYSTEM. 


through";    and 


g° 
an 


some     very     strong 


A.  Heart.   B,  B.  Lungs,   c.  Liver.   D.  Stom-  alarm  is  raised,  and 

ach.     E.  Spleen,     m,  m.    Kidneys,     g.   Blad- 
der,     d.    is   the  diaphragm   which    forms   the 

partition   between   the   thorax   and    abdomen.  Servants  of  the  llOUSC, 
Under  the  latter  is  the  cardiac  orifice  of  the  11     j  j 

stomach,  and  at  the  right  extremity,  or  pit  of  t-"ii<-<-'         USC1CS,  COme 

the  stomach,  is  the  pyloric  orifice.  to     the    help    of     the 


SALIVA   DIGESTS  STAKCH.  67 

pylorus,  and  the  intruders  are  forced  to  go  out  the 
way  they  came  in.  This  we  call  vomiting,  and  it  is  a 
very  disagreeable  process,  but  sometimes  very  benefi- 
cial ;  and  we  should  be  thankful  that  we  are  able  so 
to  expel  our  foes,  even  if  it  does  make  us  suffer. 

'  It  takes  from  three  to  five  hours  for  Gastric  Juice 
to  get  his  cooking  all  done  and  the  kitchen  empty, 
then  he  takes  a  rest,  and  other  servants  take  up  the 
process  of  preparing  the  food.  e  A  very  important 
work  is  done  in  the  butler's  pantry.  I0  The  scientific 
name  of  this  room  is  the  duodenum,  so  called  from  a 
Latin  word  meaning  twelve,  because  it  is  about  as 
long  as  twelve  fingers  are  broad.  "  It  is  fitted  up  with 
a  very  great  number  of  shelves.  13  There  are  two  as- 
sistants, who  begin  their  work  in  this  little  room. 
One,  named  Pancreatic  Juice,  has  his  home  in  a  room 
called  the  14  pancreas,  which  lies  back  of  the  stomach. 
The  other,  called  Bile,  comes  from  a  large  and  im- 
portant room  called  the  15  liver.  I0  Each  of  these  as- 
sistants comes  along  a  little  hall  which  leads  from  his 
room,  until  they  meet  in  a  larger  hall,  and  go  on 
in  quite  a  friendly  way  to  their  work  in  the  pantry. 

17  Although  they  seem  to  be  such  good  friends  there 
is  in  reality  a  very  great  difference  between  the  two. 
Pancreatic  Juice  is  very  obliging,  and  will  do  any  kind 
of  work  that  needs  doing,  while  Bile  is  very  particular, 
and  will  have  little  to  do  with  anything  but  fats. 

18  All  the  food  we  eat  is  classed  under  four  kinds : 
amylaceous,  that  is,  starchy ;    saccharine,  that  is,  con- 
taining  sugar;    oleaginous,   fatty;    and   albuminous, 
that  is,  foods   containing  albumen — a  substance  like 


68  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

the  white  of  an  egg.  19  Saliva  digests  starch.  J0  Gas- 
trice  juice  digests  sugar  and  albumen  ;  it  breaks  the 
albuminous  coverings  of  food,  and  that  may  be  said 
to  be  like  the  cook  peeling  the  fruit  and  vegetables ; 
it  dissolves  some  kinds  of  food,  softens  others.:  it  cur- 
dles milk,  and  oily  substances  are  in  the  stomach 
churned  up  into  very  small  particles  ;  but  gastric  juice 
does  not  change  starch,  although  it  separates  it  from 
the  albuminous  material  that  may  surround  it.  "  Pan- 
creatic juice,  however,  does  not  select  his  work.  He 
does  not  ask  whether  the  food  is  albumen,  sugar, 
starch,  or  fat,  but  digests  each  and  all. 

aa  Bile,  on  the  contrary,  is  just  as  aristocratic  as 
saliva,  and  condescends  to  notice  only  the  fats — that 
is,  as  far  as  preparing  food  for  the  dining-room  is  con- 
cerned ;  but  he  has  other  work  to  do  besides  that  of 
digestion.  "3  It  is  his  business  to  see  that  everything 
goes  on  smoothly,  and  to  keep  things  from  spoiling. 
If  he  is  sick,  or  lazy,  and  neglects  his  work,  the  food 
is  apt  to  decompose,  and  spoiled  food  is  very  un- 
wholesome. 24  Sometimes  he  gets  worn  out  because 
he  has  so  much  fat  given  him  to  digest  that  he  can  not 
do  his  work  well,  and  he  complains  in  a  way  that  the 
master  of  the  house  learns  to  understand,  and  knows 
that  this  trusty  servant  is  out  of  temper,  even  if  he 
does  not  know  what  makes  him  so ;  and  this  being 
out  of  temper  the  master  calls  "  biliousness." 

25  Fat  is  our  fuel.  We  need  fat  in  the  winter  to 
keep  us  warm;  but  as  the  "warm  days  of  spring 
come  we  need  to  keep  up  less  fire ;  if  we  do  not  re- 
member this,  and  continue  to  eat  as  much  butter,  fat 


FA  T  IS  OUR  FUEL.  69 

meats,  and  rich  gravies  as  we  did  in  cold  weather,  we 
need  not  be  surprised  if  our  cooks  complain  and  warn 
us  that  we  are  not  using  them  well.  It  is  our  duty  to 
care  for  the  welfare  of  all  of  the  servants  who  work 
for  us  so  faithfully  in  our  House  Beautiful.  We  should 
give  them  opportunity  to  rest ;  we  should  not  over- 
work them,  or  call  upon  them  to  do  impossible  things, 
and  so  make  them  angry ;  for,  although  they  always 
do  the  best  for  us  they  can,  yet  they  will  be  revenged 
upon  us  and  cause  us  to  suffer  if  we  abuse  them. 

You  must  not  think  that  all  this  time  while  the 
food  is  in  the  kitchen,  and  in  the  butler's  pantry,  that 
none  of  it  is  used  in  building  up  or  strengthening  the 
house. 

Most  all  cooks  have  a  way  of  taking  a  little  taste  of 
this  or  that  kind  of  food  while  they  are  at  work. 
Some  say  they  must  taste  now  and  then  so  as  to  know 
if  they  have  it  properly  seasoned.  But  it  is  not  the 
cooks  in  our  house  that  take  a  taste  now  and  then. 
They  attend  strictly  to  their  own  work.  It  is  the 
walls  of  the  kitchen  and  of  the  butler's  pantry  that 
help  themselves  to  the  food.  Do  you  say  that  you 
can't  believe  that  the  walls  of  a  house  could  eat 
food  ?  It  does  sound  strange  at  first.  But  it  is  true, 
nevertheless. 

Did  you  ever  come  into  the  "  old  house  at  home  " 
after  it  had  been  raining  for  some  days,  and  find  the 
brick  wall  on  one  side  all  wet  because  the  trough  at 
the  roof  leaked  on  the  outside  ?  Certainly  you  remem- 
ber that.  Now,  had  not  the  wall  been  eating  the 
water?  It  could  not  have  got  wet  in  any  other  way. 


70  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

In  very  much  the  same  way  the  walls  of  our  House 
Beautiful  take  up  the  fluid  food. 

There  are  millions  of  little  mouths  which  are  opened 
to  take  up  the  food  which  goes  into  the  circulation 
direct,  and  this  strengthens  the  person  and  cheers  him 
up  if  he  is  suffering  for  food.  So  when  one  has  been 
a  longtime  without  food,  milk  or  soup  is  among  the 
best  things  to  give.  And  if  you  give  a  hungry  person 
food  you  will  now  know  that  millions  of  these  little 
mouths  are  saying  in  chorus,  I  thank  you,  I  thank 
you. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE   DINING-ROOM. 

"  WHERE  is  the  man  who  can  live  without  dining  ?  ' 
asks  the  poet.  And  it  is  a  fact  that  the  subject  of 
dinners  occupies  a  large  share  of  the  thoughts  of  both 
the  old  and  the  young,  and  how  to  procure  them 
constitutes  the  chief  anxiety  of  a  great  portion  of 
mankind.  In  the  humble  cottage  and  in  the  grand 
mansion  the  dining-room  is  the  pleasant  centre  oi 
attraction  for  the  family. 

And  our  House  Beautiful  has  a  dining-room,  which 
we  shall  find  worthy  of  a  visit.  '  It  opens  directly 
out  of  the  butler's  pantry,  and  is  a  long,  narrow  room, 
perhaps  an  inch  or  so  in  width,  and  about  twenty-five 
feet  long.  a  It  is  coiled  and  folded  up  like  a  rubber 
tube,  to  fit  in  a  space  which  is  called  the  abdominal 
cavity. 

This  dining-room  has  three  walls,  like  the  stomach. 
The  muscular  fibres  are  arranged,  some  running 
lengthwise  and  others  running  in  a  circular  manner 
around  this  tube.  The  inside  of  the  tube  is  lined  with 
a  thin,  soft,  flexible  membrane  or  skin,  which  is  folded 
or  plaited  up,  so  that  if  it  were  smoothed  out  straight 
it  would  not  be  less  than  fifty  feet  long ;  and  its 
whole  surface  is  covered  with  a  vast  number  of  littL- 
cupboards  called  follicles. 


72  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

The  first  two-fifths  of  the  dining-room  is  called 
the  jejunum,  the  4  remaining  three-fifths  is  the  ileum, 
and  both  together  are  commonly  spoken  of  as  the 
small  intestines.  *  The  dining-room  is  presided  over 
by  Intestinal  Juice,  another  member  of  the  Juice 
family,  7  and  his  duty  is  to  complete  what  the  others 
have  left  undone.  The  material  with  which  he  works 
is  found  in  the  little  follicles,  which  are  called  the 
follicles  of  Lieberkuehn,  and  which  are  set  close  togeth- 


FOLLICLES  OF  THE    ILEUM. 

er  through  the  whole  length  of  the  small  intestines. 
They  are  little  tubes  with  rounded  ends  below,  and 
opening  upon  the  inner  surface  of  the  intestine  by 
mouths. 

There  is  no  sound  of  bell  or  gong  when  dinner  is 
ready,  for  the  people  who  are  to  eat  are  never  away 
playing  croquet  or  riding  bicycles,  and  never  need  a 
half  hour's  warning  in  order  to  get  clean  faces  and 
smooth  hair  before  coming  to  the  table. 


THE  CHYLE. 


73 


They  are  always  in  the  dining-room,  and  are  usu- 
ally ready  to  eat.  They  are  very,  very  little  people 
indeed.  You  could  not  see  them  without  your  big- 
gest spectacles.  They  are  so  small  that  there  are 
from  forty  to  ninety  of  them  in  the  one  hundred  and 
forty-fourth  part  of  a  square  inch.  Each  one  of  these 
*  little  folks  is  called  a  villus ,  and  altogether  are  villi. 


THE  VILLI. 

CHYLIFICATION. 

A  diagram  of  the  mucous  membrane 
during  digestion  and  the  preparation 
of  chyle,  a.  A  villas,  turgid  and  erect ; 
its  protective  epithelium  cast  off  from 
its  free  extremity  ;  its  absorbent  ves- 
sels, lacteals,  and  blood-vessels  tur- 
gid, b.  A  follicle  discharging  its 
epithelial  cells. 


ABSORPTION. 

A  representation  of  the  same  mucous 
membrane  when  chylification  is  not 
going  on.  a.  Protective  epithelium 
of  a  villus.  b.  Secreting  epithelium 
of  a  follicle,  c,  r,  c.  Primary  mem- 
brane, with  its  germinal  spots,  or  nu- 
clei, rf,  </,  e.  Germs  of  absorbent  vesi- 
cles, f.  Vessels  and  lacteals  of  villus. 


They  are  attached  to  the  walls  of  the  dining-room, 
and  are  like  little  hairs,  so  close  and  fine  that  under 
the  microscope  they  make  the  walls  have  a  velvety 
look.  9  Each  villus  has  a  mouth,  and  sucks  up  the 
food  that  is  passing  through  the  dining-room.  10  The 
food  by  this  time  has  become  a  milky  fluid,  very  dif- 
ferent in  appearance  from  the  variety  of  articles  of 
which  it  is  made,  and  is  called  Chyle. 


74  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL 

Custard  is  a  word  meaning  e^gs,  milk,  and  sugar, 
beaten  together  and  cooked,  so  that  it  is  ready  to  be 
eaten.  And  chyle  is  the  name  for  all  the  food  we 
eat  after  it  has  been  beaten  and  churned  together  and 
prepared  by  our  various  cooks,  through  their  process 
of  cookery,  which  we  term  digestion,  for  the  use  of 


MESENTERIC  GLANDS. 

I.  Thoracic  duct.  2.  Section  of  the  aorta.  3.  Glands  around  the  aor»a  which 
receive  the  lymphatics  from  the  intestine  and  give  off  vessels  to  the  thoracic 
duct.  4.  Superficial  lymphatics  on  the  intestine.  5,  5.  More  lymphatic  glands 
receiving  vessels  from  the  intestine.  6,  7.  Lymphatics  from  the  intestine  and 
mesentery. 

these  little  villi,  whose  whole  duty  is  to  eat  that  we 
may  live. 

11  It  is  really  true  that  they  eat  for  us  rather  than 
for  themselves,  and  so  they  do  not  keep  what  they 
have  eaten,  but  ia  pass  it  along  through  numerous 
little  halls  or  ducts  until  it  reaches  the  mesenteric 


PERISTAL  TIC  A  CTION.  75 

glands,  where  it  is  changed  or  manufactured  into  some- 
thing more  like  blood,  and  then  it  passes  into  a  much 
larger  hall,  called  the  thoracic  duct,  up  which  it  goes 
to  the  left  side  of  the  neck,  where  it  enters  a  pipe 
known  as  the  jugular  vein,  which  is  carrying  blood  to 
the  heart. 

The  mesentery  is  a  broad  thin  membrane,  upon  one 
edge  of  which  the  small  intestines  are  attached.  The 
other  edge  is  gathered  up  in  a  space  about  six  inches 
in  length  and  fastened  to  the  spine  in  the  region 
known  as  the  "  small  of  the  back."  By  this  arrange- 
ment the  intestines,  while  left  loose,  are  also  kept 
from  becoming  tangled  with  each  other. 

Have  you  ever  wondered  how  the  food  you  ate  got 
into  your  blood,  and  became  blood  in  its  turn  ?  for 
you  all  know  that  if  the  food  did  not  become  blood 
it  would  do  you  no  good  to  eat.  I3  And  now  you  can 
follow  a  mouthful  of  food  on  its  journey,  and  see  just 
what  will  happen  to  it  on  the  way.  You  can  see  the 
teeth  grinding  it  up  fine,  the  saliva  making  the  starch 
over  into  sugar,  the  stomach  churning  it,  while  gas- 
tric juice  dissolves  and  softens  and  breaks  up  a  part, 
and  digests  another  part.  Then  you  follow  it  into 
the  duodenum,  and  watch  the  effect  of  the  action  of 
pancreatic  juice  and  bile,  and  then,  passing  along  into 
the  small  intestines,  you  see  the  work  of  digestion 
completed  by  the  intestinal  juice,  and  the  milky  chyle 
sucked  up  by  the  benevolent  villi,  who  pass  it  along 
until  it  reaches  the  blood,  and,  mingling  with  it,  be- 
comes food  for  all  the  various  parts  of  the  body. 

I  have  said  that  the  tood  passed  along  through  the 


76 


THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 


intestines  as  if  it  were  alive  and  could  walk ;  M  but  in 
reality  the  food  is  moved  along  by  the  action  of  the 
walls  of  the  intestines,  which  draw  together  in  some 
one  place  and  then  pull  themselves  back  over  the 
contents,  which  are  thus  pushed  forward  a  little  ways ; 

then  the  walls  im- 
mediately behind 
the  contents  con- 
tract and  pull  back, 
and  thus  they  keep 
pushing  the  food 
along.  1BThis 
motion,  which  is 
called  peristaltic 
action,  is  never  felt 
when  we  are  in 
health,  but  1C  some- 
times when  we  have 
eaten  something 
that  is  not  good  for 
us  the  intestines  are 
in  a  hurry  to  push 
it  along,  and  con- 
tract so  irregularly 
and  so  fast  and  with 

SECTION  OF  THE  ILEUM,  TURNED  INSIDE  OUT.      SO   much    force    that 

pain  is  caused. 

After  dinner,  the  next  thing  always  is  to  clear  the 
table,  pick  up  the  fragments  that  are  suitable  to  be 
eaten,  and  throw  away  the.waste  pieces.  The  servants, 
who  eat  after  the  family,  dispose  of  many  ot  the  frag- 


EAT  TO  LIVE.  yy 

ments,  and  that  which  is  not  fit  to  be  eaten  is  thrown 
into  the.  scavenger-box.  In  the  House  Beautifdl  there 
is  no  extravagance  or  wastefulness  ;  we  would  there- 
fore expect  to  find  some  way  provided  to  use  up  that 
which  has  been  left  by  the  villi.  And  we  do  find 
that  such  provision  has  been  made.  17  At  the  lower 
end  of  the  dining-room  a  little  trap-door,  which  has 
the  name  of  the  ileo-c<zcal  valve,  leads  into  18  a  room, 
broader  and  shorter  than  the  dining-room,  which  is 


LACTEALS  OF  JEJUNUM  AND  MBSENTKRY. 

i.  Section  of  the  jejunum.  2.  Section  of  the  mesentery.  3.  Branch  of  the  superior 
mesenteric  artery.  4.  Branch  of  the  superior  mesenteric  vein.  5.  Mesenteric 
glands  receiving  the  lymphatics  of  the  intestines. 

known  as  the  Colon.  "  Along  the  walls  of  this  room 
are  little  folks  called  Absorbents,  who  pick  out  of  the 
contents  of  the  Colon  that  which  is  eatable,  and  the 
waste  is  left  to  be  thrown  into  the  scavenger-box  or 
rectum,  which,  like  all  scavenger-boxes,  should  be 
emptied  every  day.  20  We  have  now  followed  the 
food  in  its  journeyings,  and  have  found  that  part  of 
it  is  cast  out  as  waste,  but  that  the  greater  part  is 

6 


THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 


used  in  building  us  up,  in  making  us  grow,  or  in  keep- 
ing us  in  repair ;  and  did  you  ever  think  how  kind 
our  Heavenly  Father  is  in  giving  us  such  delicious 

things  to  eat,  so  that 
the  duty  of  eating  in 
order  that  we  may  live 
is  made  a  pleasure  to 
us  ?  So  great  a  pleas- 
ure, in  fact,  that  we 
sometimes  almost 
think  that  we  live  in 
order  that  we  may  eat, 
and  so  allow  ourselves 
to  eat  things  that  are 
hurtful,  just  because 
they  taste  good,  or  we 

ABSORBENTS  OF  THE  COLON.  eaj-       more      than       WC 

really  need,  and  so  give  our  faithful  household  ser- 
vants more  work  to  do  than  they  are  able  to  perform. 
There  is  one  truth  we  should  all  remember.  21  It 
is  not  the  great  amount  of  food  we  eat  that  nourishes 
us,  but  the  amount  we  really  use.  If  we  eat  more 
than  the  cooks  can  properly  prepare,  or  than  the  villi 
and  absorbents  can  take  up  and  use,  we  have  done 
ourselves  an  injury.  Let  us  take  this  as  our  motto : 

"  I  eat  that  I  may  live." 


CHAPTER    XI. 

THE   ENGINE. 

THE  House  Beautiful  possesses  a  wonderful  en- 
gine, which  never  rests  from  the  time  the  house  is 
first  occupied  until  the  tenant  moves  out  forever. 
And  that  is  one  way  in  which  this  house  differs  from 
all  others.  '  It  never  has  but  one  tenant,  no  matter 
how  long  it  may  stand.  *  As  soon  as  that  tenant 
moves  out,  the  house  goes  into  decay, 8  and  by  watch- 
ing the  engine  one  can  always  tell  whether  the  tenant 
has  moved  out.  If  he  has  only  gone  out  for  a  short 
time  the  engine  keeps  at  work ;  but  if  he  stays  too 
long,  the  engine  stops,  and  then  the  house  will  never 
be  inhabited  again. 

4  The  House  Beautiful  when  first  made  is  very 
small,  but,  unlike  all  other  houses,  it  grows  bigger  and 
bigger  for  about  twenty  years,  when  it  stops  growing 
larger,  but  grows  stronger  and  more  solid  (that  is,  if 
»t  is  properly  taken  care  of)  for  ten  years  longer. 

Then  it  simply  keeps  itself  in  repair  for  a  number 
01  years,  after  which  it  begins  to  grow  a  little  weaker 
year  by  year,  until  at  last  it  is  so  much  out  of  repair 
that  the  inhabitant  moves  away,  and  leaves  it  to 
decay. 

6  In  very  new  houses  the  engine  pumps  very  fast. 
1  When  about  one  year  old  it  will  make  about  one 

(79) 


8o  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

hundred  and  thirty  strokes  in  a  minute,  but  as  it 
grows  older  it  is  not  in  quite  so  much  of  a  hurry. 
7  When  three  years  old  it  will  make  nearly  one  hun- 
dred strokes  in  a  minute.  8  In  a  house  that  is  thirty 


THE  HEART. 

M  external  view  of  the  heart,  a.  Left  ventricle,  b.  Right  ventricle.  c<  e,  /. 
Aorta  arising  from  the  left  ventricle,  g.  Arteria  innominata.  h.  Left  subclaviau 
artery,  i.  Left  carotid,  k.  Prlmonary  artery.  /,  /.  Its  right  and  left  branches. 
m,  nt.  Veins  of  the  lungs,  n.  Right  auricle,  o.  Ascending  cava.  q.  Descend- 
ing cava.  r.  Left  auricle.  .<•.  Left  coronary  artery.  P.  Portal  veins,  which  re- 
turn the  blood  from  th;  liver  and  bowels. 

years  old  the  engine  will  make  about  seventy-five 
strokes  in  a  minute,  and  it  keeps  getting  slower  until 
at  eighty  it  will  scarcely  make  more  than  one  stroke 
to  every  second.  9  If  it  varies  greatly  from  this,  we 
know  that  something  is  wrong.  Sometimes  the 


LOCATION  OF  THE  HEART.  gj 

engine  gets  very  excited,  and  pounds  away  so  last 
that  it  may  be  almost  impossible  to  count  it ;  then 
we  generally  say  there  is  fever.  If  it  beats  much 
slower  than  it  should,  we  then  use  some  big  words, 
and  say,  "  There  is  great  depression  of  the  vital 
forces,"  and  try  to  imagine  that  we  have  explained 
the  matter  very  clearly. 

Everybody  appreciates  the  importance  of  this 
wonderful  engine,  which  we  call  the  10  heart,  and  the 
necessity  of  keeping  it  running  smoothly,  although 
there  are  many  who  do  not  know  just  where  it  is  lo- 
cated, or  do  not  understand  its  construction. 

"  Oh,  we  all  know  where  our  heart  is  !  "  Do  your 
Well,  then,  of  course  you  can  tell  me  just  where  it  is. 

"  Why,  yes,  of  course  we  can.  It  is  on  our  left 
side." 

"  Aha!  I  thought  you  did  not  know.  It  is  not  on 
your  left  side." 

"  I  should  like  to  know  where  it  is,  then  ;  for  I  can 
feel  mine  beating  on  my  left  side,  and  when  public 
speakers  refer  to  the  heart  they  always  place  the  hand 
on  the  left  side."  So  they  do,  and  in  so  doing  they 
place  the  hand  just  where  the  point  of  the  heart 
touches  the  left  side,  but  the  bulk  of  the  heart  lies 
higher  up,  and  more  nearly  in  the  centre  of  the  body. 
If  you  put  your  chin  down  as  low  upon  your  breast 
as  you  can,  it  will  touch  a  point  over  the  heart. 

Those  of  you  who  have  ever  seen  the  heart  of  an 
animal  will  have  a  good  idea  of  the  shape  of  the  hu- 
man heart.  It  is  a  good  deal  bigger  at  one  end  than 
at  the  other.  lf  All  kindergarten  children  will  under 


82  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

stand  me  if  I  say  it  is  irregularly  conical,  and  "  lies 
with  the  base  upward,  about  the  point  where  the  chin 
touches  the  breast,  and  the  apex  downward,  touching 
the  left  side  between  the  fifth  and  sixth  ribs.  About 
one-third  of  the  heart  lies  at  the  right  of  a  line  drawn 
through  the  centre  of  the  breast-bone.  Thus  you 
will  see  that  the  heart  lies  obliquely  across  the  chest, 
reaching  from  the  second  rib  on  the  right  side  to  be- 
tween the  fifth  and  sixth  ribs  on  the  left 

The  base  or  upper  end  of  the  heart  is  held  in  place 
by  the  larger  blood-vessels  which  lead  out  of  it,  and 
the  lower  and  smaller  end  is  left  free.  The  whole 
heart  is  enclosed  in  a  bag  or  sac  called  the  pericar- 
dium, which  is  a  serous  membrane.  Serous  mem- 
branes form  closed  sacs  wherever  there  are  parts 
which  would  rub  against  each  other.  They  are 
made  soft  and  slippery  by  a  fluid  which  prevents  fric- 
tion. 

Now  that  we  have  learned  the  location  of  our 
engine,  we  will  study  its  construction.  It  seems 
quite  a  simple  affair  as  we  examine  it,  yet  in  its  work- 
ings it  is  more  wonderful  than  any  other  engine 
that  was  ever  made. 

18  It  is  first  divided  by  a  partition  lengthwise  into 
a  right  and  left  side,  or,  as  we  sometimes  say,  a 
right  and  left  heart.  »•  Each  side  is  then  divided  into 
two  rooms,  one  apparently  much  bigger  than  the 
other.  The  smaller  rooms  lie  above  the  larger  ones, 
and  are  therefore  at  the  base  of  the  heart.  16  They 
are  called  respectively  the  right  and  left  auricles,  or 
ears,  because  they  have  something  the  shape  of  the 


DIVISIONS  OF  THE  HEART.  83 

ear  of  an  animal.     16  The  larger  rooms  are  the  right 
and  left  ventricles. 


DlAGRAMATIC   REPRESENTATION   OF  THE   CIRCULATION   OF  THE   BLOOD. 

t.  Right  auricle.  2.  Right  ventricle.  4  and  5.  Venous  blood  going  to  the  lungs 
6.  Capillaries  of  lungs.  12.  Arterial  blood  going  to  upper  part  of  body.  13. 
Arterial  blood  going  to  lower  extremities.  14.  Capillary  circulation  betweeu 
arteries  and  veins.  15.  Venous  blood  returning  from  upper  part  of  body.  16 
Venous  blood  returning  from  lower  extremities. 

Though  the  construction  of  both  sides  of  the  heart 
is  alike  they  have  each  a  different  work  to  do,  dif- 


84  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

fcrent  in  degree  but  not  in  manner.  l8  The  right 
heart  deals  only  with  impure  and  soiled  blood,  the 
19  left  heart  only  with  pure  or  cleansed  blood. 

20  A  large  pipe,  or  tube,  called  the  descending  vena 
cava,  brings  the  soiled  blood  from  the  upper  part  of 
the  body  to  the  right  auricle,  and  another  one,  called 
21  the  ascending  vena  cava,  brings  it  from  the  lower 
part  of  the  body  to  the  same  place. 

23  When  the  auricle  is  full,  its  walls  squeeze  together 
and  press  the  blood  into  the  ventricle.  24  There  arc 
folding-doors  between  these  two  rooms,  and  they  are 
made  so  as  not  to  let  the  blood  flow  back  into  the 
auricle.  Have  you  ever  seen  a  gate  with  one  end  of 
a  rope  fastened  to  it  and  the  other  end  to  a  post  so 
that  the  gate  will  go  shut  but  never  swing  open  the 
wrong  way?  25  In  the  same  manner  these  folding- 
doors  are  tied  to  the  walls  of  the  ventricle  so  that 
they  can  never  swing  back  into  the  auricle.  When 
the  ventricle  is  full,  its  walls  contract,  and  the  blood 
presses  against  the  doors  or  24  valves  until  they  are 
shut,  and  then  as  the  strings  hold  them  fast  so  that 
they  can  not  swing  back,  the  blood  is  compelled  to 
go  out  into  a  tube  called  the  pulmonary  artery,  which 
26  carries  it  away  to  the  laundry  to  be  washed. 

27  There  are  also  valves  at  the  entrance  to  this 
artery,  which  will  not  allow  the  blood  to  return  into 
the  ventricle.  They  are  called  semi-lunar  valves,  be- 
cause they  are  the  shape  of  a  half-moon. 

In  like  manner  the  pure  blood,  which  is  brought 
from  the  laundry,  through  pipes  called  pulmonary 
veins,  "  into  the  left  auricle,  is  sent  from  there  into 


SIZE  OF  THE   VENTRICLES.  85 

the  left  ventricle,  30and  from  there  into  a  great  bi^ 
tube  called  the  aorta,  31  from  whence  it  is  distributed 
throughout  the  body  to  give  up  its  nourishment, 
to  receive  waste,  and  to  return  again  through  the 
vena  cavce  to  the  right  heart.  83  There  are  only  two 
doors  between  the  left  auricle  and  ventricle.  They 
are  called  bi-cuspid  (two-pointed),  or  34  mitral,  because 
they  are  supposed  to  resemble  the  mitre  or  two- 
pointed  cap  worn  by  a  bishop  ;  83  while  between  the 
right  auricle  and  ventricle  there  are  three  doors  which 
are  therefore  called  the  three-pointed  or  tri-cuspid 
valves.  3&  The  walls  of  the  left  ventricle  are  much 
thicker  and  stronger  than  those  of  the  right,  because 
it  has  to  send  the  blood  a  much  greater  distance. 
Thus  you  will  see  that  there  are  two  circulations  of 
blood  from  the  heart,  the  right  ventricle  sends  the 
blood  to  the  lungs,  whence  it  returns,  after  being 
washed,  to  the  left  ventricle,  which  sends  the  blood 
through  the  whole  body. 

88  It  is  estimated  that  each  ventricle  in  a  grown  per- 
son will  hold  about  three  ounces  of  blood,  and  as 
each  ventricle  fills  at  every  stroke  of  the  heart,  it  fol- 
lows that  six  ounces  of  blood  will  be  pumped  out  of 
the  heart  at  every  stroke.  "  We  learned  that  the 
heart  of  a  man  beats  about  seventy-five  times  in  one 
minute.  S8  How  often  will  it  beat  in  an  hour?  39  Mul- 
tiply seventy-five  by  sixty,  and  you  have  four  thou- 
sand five  hundred  strokes  in  an  hour,  and  in  a  day  it 
will  beat  40  one  hundred  and  eight  thousand  times. 
4  Six  ounces  at  each  stroke  would  be  six  hundred  and 
forty-eight  thousand  ounces.  And  that  is  more  than 


g6  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

twenty  tons.  Would  you  believe  it  possible  that  a 
man's  heart  does  as  much  work  as  that  in  twenty-four 
hours? 

"  And  does  it  never  rest  ?  " 

41  Yes,  it  rests  between  beats.  Just  think;  only 
those  tiny  resting  spells  from  the  time  we  are  born 
until  we  die.  48  It  rests  most  at  night,  because  we  are 
quiet  and  lying  down.  As  soon  as  we  sit  or  stand  up 
it  begins  to  beat  faster,  and  you  know  how  it  will 
pound  away  after  you  have  been  running  rapidly. 
Moderate  exercise  never  does  a  well  person  harm. 
But  when  great  physical  effort  is  put  forth  continually, 
as  by  men  who  are  engaged  in  walking-matches,  or 
rowing-races,  or  such  contests,  this  great  44  demand 
upon  the  heart  causes  it  to  hypertrophy  (that  is,  to 
grow  larger),  and  before  many  years  it  becomes 
weaker,  and  the  man  does  not  walk  or  row  as  he  once 
did,  and  at  last  he  fails  in  health  entirely ;  and  it  is 
all  because  his  heart  has  been  overtaxed  in  years  past, 
and  has  lost  power.  Let  us,  then,  remember  that  the 
engine  can  not  rest  like  most  parts  of  the  House 
Beautiful,  and  respect  its  wishes  by  not  giving  it  too 
much  to  do  in  too  short  a  time. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

THE     HOUSEKEEPER. 
"For  a  housekeeper  has  always  such  a  world  of  things  to  do." 

IF  you  have  never  been  a  housekeeper,  you  never- 
theless  have  had  an  opportunity  to  see  how  busy 
housekeepers  always  are.  *  They  must  see  that  every 
member  of  the  family  is  provided  with  appro- 
priate food  and  clothes;  that  the  whole  house 
is  kept  clean  and  in  order;  and  that  all  refuse  is 
quickly  removed.  They  must  keep  their  eyes  open 
to  observe  where  any  repairing  needs  to  be  done,  and 
see  that  it  is  done.  The  Housekeeper  in  our  House 
Beautiful  is  no  less  busy  looking  after  every  depart- 
ment. But,  strange  to  say,  she  does  not  decide  what 
repairs  need  to  be  made  ;  and,  stranger  still,  the  owner 
of  the  house  does  not  decide  that  question ;  in  fact, 
he  couldn't  if  he  would ;  and,  strangest  thing  of  all, 
2  each  part  of  the  house  knows  how  to  repair  itself. 
8  It  selects  the  material  which  it  needs,  and  receives 
it  from  the  Housekeeper,  if  she  has  it,  and  4  gives  to 
her  the  worn-out  pieces  which  she  takes  along  with 
her. 

6  Blood,  the  Housekeeper,  starts  out  from  the  left 
heart,  in  a  bright  scarlet  dress,  on  her  round  of  duty 
through  the  house.  6  This  bright  color  of  her  dress 
vs  made  up  of  innumerable  little  parcels,  called  7  the 

(87) 


88  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

red  corpuscles,  which  have  come  from  the  lungs 
loaded  with  oxygen  which  they  are  going  to  carry 
to  every  part  of  the  house.  8  These  corpuscles  are 

round  like  pieces  of 
money,  only  they  are  thin- 
ner in  the  centre  than  at 
the  edges,  and  might  be 
©  gfe  more  truly  compared  to  a 

RED  CORPUSCLES.  rubber    ball    pressed   to- 

A  represents  the  blood-corpuscles  as  seen    gether     On     tWO     Opposite 


on  their  flat  surface  and  edge.    B.  Con-  sj^es.      '  They  EFC  SO  Small, 
geries  of  blood  corpuscles  in  columns. 

In   coagulating,   the    corpuscles  apply  that     three     thousand    five 

themselves  to  each  other,  so  as  to  re-  hundred      Qf     th                J     jng 

semble  piles  of  money.  ° 

side  by  side,  would  make 

a  row  only   an    inch    long.     1-  But,    besides  the    red 
corpuscles,  Blood  carries  with  her  little  white  glob- 
ules, called  white  corpuscles.     "  These   are   not  quite 
as  small   as   the   red   ones,  and  there  are  not  nearly 
so    many  of    them,    one    white   to   about    five    hun- 
dred  red.      I2  These   little  red   and  white   corpuscles 
float    along    in    a    fluid    called    the   serum,   which   is 
largely   made    up    of    water,    and 
fiRT    fl^\  which  contains  in  solution  all  the 


-ff  material  for  building  up  the  body, 

&  u    dlS^''*    such  as  albumen,  soda,  potassium, 


(jf)a  XSgP'         magnesia,   iron,    and    many   other 

CELLS  OK  HUMAN  BLOOD.     Substances. 

18  We  will  imagine  the  House- 
keeper, loaded  with  her  myriad  of  little  bundles,  start- 
ing out  from  the  left  heart  through  the  big  hall,  or  tube 
the  aorta.  "  A  pair  of  doors,  called  semi-lunar  valves 


THE  ARTERIES  ARE  ELASTIC.  39 

<* 
close  behind  her,  and  she  hurries  along,  very  lapidly  at 

first,  because  the  engine  has  sent  her  out  with  great 
force.  16  From  this  large  passageway  smaller  ones  begin 
to  branch  off,  and  she  rushes  through  some  up  to 
the  head,  and  through  others  to  the  arms,  and  through 
others  to  the  stomach  and  all  the  internal  organs,  and 
down  even  to  the  ends  of  the  toes,  through  many 
halls  which  grow  smaller  as  they  become  more  nu- 
merous, just  as  the  branches  of  a  tree  get  smaller 
and  smaller  as  they  divide  and  subdivide  until  they 
end  in  tiny  twigs.  1B  These  halls  are  known  as  ar- 
teries, and  they  have  stiff  walls  which  make  them 
keep  their  shape,  but  the  walls  are  also  elastic  and 
will  stretch,  so  that  sometimes  they  can  contain  more 
blood  than  they  do  at  others.  The  blood  is  not  al- 
lowed to  stop  anywhere  on  the  way,  for  the  engine 
keeps  on  pumping  and  sending  it  along.  1T  You  can 
feel  how  it  goes  in  waves  through  the  arteries  if  you 
put  your  ringer  over  one  where  it  comes  near  the  sur- 
face, as  on  your  temple,  or  on  the  thumb  side  of  your 
wrist. 

After  a  time  the  halls  become  so  very  narrow  that 
the  little  red  corpuscles  can  only  squeeze  through  one 
tit  a  time.  18  The  halls  are  then  called  capillaries,  and 
form  a  network  as  in  the  lungs.  19  It  is  here  in  the 
capillaries  that  Blood  leaves  her  bright  scarlet  dress 
and  puts  on  a  purplish  one.  20  She  has  given  up  oxy- 
gen to  keep  you  alive,  and  now,  with  dress  soiled  by 
carbonic  acid  gas  and  various  refuse  received  into  the 
blood  from  the  tissues,  she  begins  her  return  journey 
to  the  heart.  She  ai  leaves  the  capillaries  by  a  num- 


go  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

her  of  small  hallways  which  merge  in  large  ones,  just 
as  the  rootlets  of  a  tree  are  merged  in  the  larger  roots, 
and  they  at  length  in  the  trunk.  22  If  Blood  is  com- 
ing from  the  feet  she  reaches  the  engine  through  the 
large  vein,  the  vena  cava  ascendens  ;  if  from  23  the  up- 
per part  of  the  body,  through  the  vena  cava  descen* 
dens.  "  The  veins  differ  from  the  arteries  in  theii 
structure.  If  a  vein  is  cut  across,  its  walls  do  not 
stand  open,  as  do  those  of  the  arteries,  but  they  will 
fall  together.  "  Then  the  veins  communicate  with 
each  other  everywhere  by  little  branches  which  pass 
from  vein  to  vein,  thus  making  the  veins  more  like  a 
network.  In  the  arteries  this  takes  place  occasionally, 
but  is  the  exception  rather  than  the  rule.  2e  The  veins 
of  the  surface  of  the  body  are  provided  with  valves 
which  prevent  the  blood  flowing  backward.  The 
arteries  do  not  need  valves,  because  they  lead  from 
the  heart,  and  the  force  of  the  heart's  action  sends 
the  blood  along ;  but  in  the  veins  this  impulse  is  not 
so  strongly  felt,  and,  besides  that,  the  blood  from  the 
lower  extremities  has  to  climb  up-hill,  and  the  valves 
tend  to  prevent  it  slipping  down  again.  "  You  can 
see  how  hard  it  is  for  the  blood  to  climb  up  if  you 
hold  one  hand  hanging  down.  It  will  get  very  red, 
and  the  veins  will  show  full  of  blood.  Now,  if  you 
hold  it  over  your  head,  it  will  soon  get  white  again, 
because  the  blood  has  found  it  easy  to  run  down-hill. 
38  Through  the  veins  the  blood  runs  in  a  steady 
stream,  but  through  the  arteries  it  goes  in  jets,  or 
spurts.  "  The  remembrance  of  this  fact  is  useful  in 
accidents,  for  to  cut  an  artery  is  much  more  serious 


RAPIDITY  OF  CIRCULATION.  gi 

than  to  cut  a  vein,  and  we  can  judge  which  has  been 
cut  by  the  way  the  blood  flows  out.  so  The  arteries 
come  direct  from  the  heart,  and  if  one  is  severed  it 
could  soon  empty  the  whole  system  of  blood  ;  but  a 
cut  vein  would  have  to  empty  all  the  capillaries  be- 
fore it  could  carry  off  all  the  blood,  and  the  capillaries 
are  so  numerous  that  they  contain  more  than  31  five 
hundred  times  as  much  blood  as  the  arteries,  n  The 
entire  amount  of  blood  is  estimated  to  be  about  one- 
eighth  of  the  body,  so  that  in  a  man  weighing  one 
hundred  and  forty-four  pounds  the  blood  would  be 
about  eighteen  pounds. 

33  How  long  does  it  take  this  amount  of  blood  to 
pass  through  the  heart?  Many  calculations  have 
been  made  and  experiments  tried,  and  it  is  thought 
that  the  whole  amount  of  blood  passes  through  the 
heart  every  forty-eight  seconds,  or  nearly  one  minute. 
34  Of  course  the  blood  travels  faster  in  the  arteries  than 
in  the  capillaries  or  veins,  and  faster  near  the  heart  than 
at  a  distance  from  it.  "*  In  the  large  arteries  near  the 
heart  it  is  estimated  to  move  at  the  rate  of  ten  or 
twelve  inches  every  second,  while  in  the  38  arteries  of 
the  foot  it  moves  only  two  and  a  quarter  inches  in  a 
second,  and  in  the  capillaries  at  the  rate  of  about  one 
inch  in  a  minute. 

If  you  could  see  the  blood  corpuscles  moving 
through  these  narrow  halls  you  would  find  much  to 
interest  you.  They  seem  to  know  so  well  what  they 
are  about.  "  Sometimes  they  will  all  go  in  one  direc- 
tion for  a  while,  then  suddenly  they  will  turn  and  all 
go  the  other  way.  Sometimes  two  rows  meet  at  a 


92 


THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 


point  where  the  narrow  halls  unite  to  form  a  larger 
one,  yet  not  large  enough  to  admit  more  than  one 
corpuscle  at  a  time,  but  there  is  no  crowding  and  jos 
tling.  8R  One  row  politely  waits  until  the  other  row 
has  passed  in,  then  they  will  follow  in  their  turn. 
39  Capillaries  exist  everywhere  in  the  body,  on  the 
surface,  and  in  all  the  internal  organs.  You  can  form 
an  idea  of  how  close  together  and  how  small  they  are 
by  seeing  a  person  blush.  40  The  capillaries  on  the 
surface  have  suddenly  dilated  from  a  mental  emotion, 
and  the  blood  has  rushed  into  them  in  such  great 
quantities  that  they  become  visible,  but  not  as  red 
lines  crossing  each  other,  with  white  spaces  between, 
but  in  one  uniform  flush.  If  you  prick  yourself  with 
the  finest  needle  you  pierce  a  capillary,  and  a  drop  of 
blood  oozes  out.  41  So  that  the  spaces  between  the 
network  of  capillaries  must  be  much  smaller  than  a 
needle-point.  And  that  reminds  me  of  a  peculiar 
disposition  our  Housekeeper  has,  to  run  away  when- 
ever she  has  a  chance.  4a  Let  ever  so  little  a  door  be 
opened  and  out  she  pops,  and  she  runs  until  some- 
thing stops  her.  4S  And  what  does  stop  her?  If  it  is 
from  a  cut  ringer  she  is  running,  and  you  go  to  mam- 
ma, and  she  ties  the  finger  up  with  a  cloth,  you  prob- 
ably think  that  mamma  stopped  her.  Or  if  it  were 
from  a  severe  wound,  where  an  artery  was  cut,  and  a 
doctor  was  called  to  stanch  the  blood,  you  no  doubt 
thought  that  the  doctor  stopped  her  ;  but  you  were 
mistaken  ;  she  stopped  herself.  All  the  mammas  and 
doctors  in  the  world  would  have  been  of  no  avail  if 
she  had  not  possessed  in  herself  the  ability  to  prevent 
herself  from  running  further. 


COAGULATION.  93 

44  Blood  carries  with  her  a  substance  called  fibrin, 
that  is  usually  dissolved  in  the  blood,  and  is  a  food. 
So  long  as  Blood  stays  in  the  blood-vessels  fibrin 
does  not  interfere  with  her,  but  goes  quietly  where 
she  goes.  But  so  soon  as  she  escapes  from  the 
house  and  begins  to  run  away,  fibrin  tangles  around 
her  feet  and  holds  her.  45  This  is  what  is  called  coag- 
ulating, or  forming  a  clot,  and  this  clot  acts  as  a  cork, 
and  stops  up  the  place  from  which  the  blood  is  flow- 
ing. "  If  there  were  no  fibrin  in  the  blood  all  the 
bandages  that  mammas  or  doctors  could  apply  would 
not  stop  the  bleeding ;  but  because  there  is  fibrin 
there,  the  bleeding  often  stops  if  nothing  is  done. 

47  It  is  in  the  capillaries  that  nutrition  of  organs 
takes  place.  Here  the  red  blood  corpuscles  give  up 
their  oxygen  and  take  up  carbonic  acid.  "  Here,  in 
some  mysterious  way,  the  different  foods  needed  by 
the  various  organs  pass  out  of  the  blood  into  the  tis- 
sues, and  the  waste  material  is  taken  into  the  blood  ; 
by  osmosis,  we  say.  Yet  this  does  not  clearly  explain 
it,  for  if  it  were  merely  osmosis,  why  will  certain  sub- 
stances held  in  the  blood  in  solution  pass  through  at 
one  point  and  certain  others  at  other  points?  *"  Here 
a  nerve  says,  "  I  need  a  little  phosphorus,"  and  the 
phosphorus  leaves  the  blood  and  goes  to  the  nerve, 
and  the  worn-out  nerve  particles  are  passed  into  the 
capillaries.  60  Here  a  bone  says,  "  I  need  lime  and 
soda  ";  a  muscle  says,  61  "  I  need  albumen  ";  the  hair 
says,  M  "  I  must  have  iron  ";  and  the  nails  say, 53  "  Give 
me  silica";  and  each  one  gets  just  what  he  needs,  and 
nothing  else.  I  said,  "  Gets  just  what  he  needs,"  but 

7 


94  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

he  64  can't  get  it  if  it  is  not  in  the  blood,  and  some- 
times the  bones  do  not  get  what  they  need,  and  they 
get  soft  and  weak  and  bend  easily,  and  the  person 
perhaps  becomes  deformed,  has  bow-legs  or  a  crooked 
spine ;  or  the  nerves  fail  to  find  their  food ;  or  the 
muscles  theirs,  and  then  there  is  trouble  all  over  the 
house,  and  we  say,  "  It  is  sick." 

5  The  Great  Architect  has  provided  everything 
needful  to  keep  the  house  in  perfect  repair,  if  we  only 
have  the  wisdom  to  select  the  foods  which  contain  it. 
**  The  various  animals  given  us  for  food  ;  the  grains 
which  make  golden  our  field  in  autumn,  the  fruits 
which  hang  in  luscious  clusters  from  vine  and  tree, 
each  and  all  contain  the  various  elements  of  which 
our  wonderful  dwelling  is  made.  Ought  we  not  daily 
to  thank  Him,  and  to  live  so  that  our  House  Beautiful 
may  in  truth  be  a  fit  temple  for  the  indwelling  of  His 
Holy  Spirit? 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

THE   LAUNDRY. 

1  THE  washerwoman  of  our  beautiful  house  is  a  very 
important  and  aristocratic  personage,  and  has  a  spe« 
cial  entrance  for  herself. 

She  has  also  a  very  pretty  name,  Aura. 

"  I  know  who  that  is.  Aura  is  a  Latin  word  mean- 
ing air." 

Yes.  And  a  here  she  comes,  all  sweet  and  pure  and 
bright,  and  she  enters  at  the  two  round  openings  un- 
der the  portico,  called  nostrils,  and  climbs  a  winding 
stairway,  up  and  back,  3  and  if  she  is  cold  this  warms 
her  somewhat,  4  and  if  any  foreigners,  such  as  parti- 
cles of  dust,  are  trying  to  enter  with  her,  they  are 
kept  out  by  guardsmen  stationed  there. 

She  now  enters  the  same  chamber  from  which  the 
kitchen  stairs  descend,  but  she  is  not  going  into  the 
kitchen. 

6  She  crosses  the  head  of  the  kitchen  stairs,  and  a 
little  trap -door  discloses  another  stairway,  down 
which  Aura  hastens  into  the  laundry.  6  This  stair- 
way is  called  the  trachea,  or  windpipe,  and  is  made 
of  about  sixteen  rings  of  T  cartilage  or  gristle,  which 
are  firm  enough  to  keep  the  passageway  always 
open.  8  Passing  into  the  chest,  the  trachea  divides, 

(95) 


THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 


and   we   have  two  stairways,  9  leading,  one  into  the 
right,  the  other  into  the  left  division  of  the  laundry. 
10  These  are  called  the  bronchial  tubes,  and  they  in 
their  turn  divide  and  subdivide  until  they  become 


TRACHEA  AND  BRONCHIAL  TUBE.. 

6.  Bifurcation  of  trachea  into  right  and  left  bronchial  tubes,  which  divide  and  sub- 
divide like  the  branches  of  a  tree.     9,12.  Trachea.     10.  Larynx. 

very  minute,  and  each  one  terminates  in  a  "  tiny  little 
tub  called  an  air-cell,  one  two-hundredth  of  an  inch 
in  diameter,  as  we  say,  ia  meaning  that  two  hundred 
of  them  would  make  a  row  an  inch  long.  IS  There 


THE  BRONCHIAL   TUBES  yj 

are  six  hundred  millions  of  these  tiny  tubs,  and  that 
is  more  than  you  or  I,  or  any  one  else  can  compre 
hend. 

14  The  walls  of  these  air-cells  are  so  thin  that  ten 


THE  AIR-CELLS,  OR  THE  STATIONARY  TUBS  OF  THE  LAUNDRY. 

.  A  bronchial  tube.     2,  2,  2.  Air-cells  or  vesicles.     3,  4.  A  bronchial  tube  and 
vesicles  laid  open. 

of  them  would  hardly  make  the  thickness  of  a  sheet 
of  writing-paper,  but  they  are  very  tough  and  strong. 

16  If  you  could  spread  this  thin  membrane  out  over 
a  flat  surface,  it  would,  if  Professor  Lindenau  is  cor- 
rect, be  enough  to  cover  ten  or  twelve  rooms  as  large 
as  your  mamma's  parlor,  if  that  is  fifteen  feet  one  way 
and  sixteen  feet  the  other. 

You  have  already  16  learned  how  the  blood  is  car- 
ried from  the  right  heart  to  the  lungs,  which  are  the 
laundry,  through  the  pulmonary  artery,  which,  on 
reaching  the  lungs,  divides,  and  divides  again  and 
again  until  the  little  tubes  are  !7so  small  that  three 
thousand  of  them  could  lie  side  by  side  in  a  space  an 
inch  wide,  18and  so  beautifully  are  they  interwoven 
that  if  looked  at  through  a  microscope  they  resemble 
delicate  lacework.  ltt  These  wondrously  small  blood- 
vessels are  called  capillaries  (a  word  meaning  hairs) 


98 


THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 


*n  and  they  encircle  the  outside  of  every  little  air-cell, 
or  tub,  21  and  are  filled  with  the  soiled  blood  which 
has  come  to  the  laundry  to  be  washed.  "  But  the 
blood  is  a  liquid  ;  how  can  it  be  washed  ?  "  Ah  !  this 


THE  CAPILLARY  SYSTEM. 

Representing  the  anastomoses  of  the  blood-vessels  which  form  the  capillaries,  as 
seen  in  the  web  of  a  frog's  foot  by  the  aid  of  the  microscope,  i,  i.  The  veins. 
2,  2,  2.  The  arteries. 

washing-  of  the  blood  is  truly  wonderful,  but  I  hope 
to  explain  it  so  that  you  may  clearly  understand  it, 
'"The  laundry  consists  of  two  large  rooms  located  in 
a  part  of  the  House  Beautiful  called  the  thorax 
or  chest.  23  These  rooms  are  elastic.  24  The  thorax 
has  a  floor  called  the  diaphragm.  It  is  not  a  level 
floor,  but  curves  upwards  so  that  on  the  upper  side  it 
is  convex,  and  on  the  under  side  concave. 

"  You  will  be  able  to   understand  that  this  makes 


HOW  WOMf'.tf  BREATHE,  AMD   WHY.  gg 

the  cavity  of  the  thorax  smaller  than  if  the  dia- 
phragm went  straight  across.  2*  The  bony  walls  of 
the  thorax  are  the  spine  in  the  back ;  the  sternum, 
or  breast-bone,  in  front,  and  the  ribs'on  the  sides. 

27  These  bony  walls  are  covered  with  muscular  walls, 
and  when  we  breathe  in  the  air  these  muscular  walls 
contract  and  raise   the  ribs,  and  the  diaphragm  de- 
scends in   the   middle,  becoming  more  nearly  level, 
and  thus  room  is  made  for  the  lungs  to  grow  larger. 

28  When  we  breathe  the  air  out,  we  just  let  go,  as  it 
were,  and,  like  a  rubber  ring  that  has  been  stretched, 
the  ribs  fall  back  to  their  places,  the  diaphragm  rises 
to  its  place,  the  air  is  sent  out,  and  the  lungs  are 
ready  to  be  filled  again.    29  Breathing  in,  is  inspiration, 
and  as  it  requires  effort,  is   called  active ;  breathing 
out,  is  expiration,  and  as  it  requires  no  effort,  is  called 
passive.     80  Both  together  are  respiration.     We  some- 
times say  of  persons  that  they  have  expired ;   that 
means  that  they  have  breathed  the  air  out  of  their 
lungs,  never  to  breathe  it  in  again. 

S1  And  now  I  will  tell  you  a  secret  that  many  of 
our  wise  physiologists  have  not  yet  found  out.  They 
say  that  men  breathe  differently  from  women  ;  that 
in  men  the  lower  end  of  the  sternum  moves  forward 
farther,  the  diaphragm  descends  lower  and  becomes 
more  nearly  straight,  and  the  walls  of  the  abdomen 
are  pushed  forward,  and  thus  rise  and  fall  with  each 
breath ;  while  in  women  the  sternum  and  diaphragm 
are  less  movable,  and  therefore  the  upper  part  of  the 
chest  heaves  with  the  breathing.  And  they  say, 
M  "  Thus  we  have  two  types  of  breathing,  the  abdomi* 


I00  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

nal  or  masculine,  and  the  thoracic  or  feminine." 
Now  comes  my  secret.  "  If  you  should  dress  a  man 
tightly  about  the  waist  as  women  dress,  his  sternum 
and  diaphragm  would  not  be  movable  either,  and  in 
order  to  breathe  at  all  he  would  be  obliged  to  adopt 
the  feminine  type.  Good  teachers  of  music  and  elo- 
cution all  say  that  their  lady  pupils  nearly  always 
have  to  be  taught  how  to  breathe  with  the  abdomi- 
nal muscles  before  they  can  have  good  control  of 
their  voices.  *8  All  babies  know  how  to  breathe,  and 
I  think  it  would  be  wise  for  all  girls  and  women,  in 
this  respect,  to  remain  as  little  children. 

86  When  Aura  entered  the  nostrils  she  came  with 
alacrity,  partly  because  she  had  received  an  urgent 
invitation,  and  partly  because  it  is  her  nature  to  rush 
into  every  place  that  is  opened  or  left  open.  3T  She 
is  always  busy  trying  to  do  good  by  cleaning  up 
everybody  and  everything.  Many  washerwomen  have 
a  washing  fluid  which  they  consider  a  very  great 
assistance  in  removing  the  dirt  from  clothing.  sa  Aura, 
too,  has  something,  but  it  is  neither  fluid  nor  crystal, 
it  is  a  gas,  with  which  she  not  only  removes  dirt  and 
impurities  from  the  blood,  but  she  also  uses  it  as  a  food 
with  which  to  build  up  the  tissues.  It  is  called 
oxygen. 

When  the  thorax  is  enlarged  Aura  rushes  in  to  fill 
the  laundry,  and  takes  with  her  oxygen  as  a  part  of 
herself.  89  She  fills  every  air-cell,  and  at  once  receives 
from  the  blood  the  carbonic  acid  gas  which  made  it 
dark-colored  and  sluggish,  40  and  in  turn  gives  to  the 
blood  the  oxygen,  which  4i  makes  the  blood  a  brig-hr 


SHE  RETURNS  YOUR  FRIEND.  IG/ 

scarlet  color  and  endues  it  with  new  life-giving  proper- 
ties with  which  to  repair  the  body.  But  a  most  won- 
derful change  has  taken  place  in  Aura.  42  She  came 
in  your  friend  ;  she  is  sent  back  up  the  dark,  winding 


HEART  AND  LUNGS. 


The  anterior  aspect  of  the  anatomy  of  the  heart  and  lungs,  i.  Right  ventricle  ; 
the  vessels  to  the  left  of  the  number  are  the  middle  coronary  artery  and  veins. 
a.  Left  ventricle.  3.  Right  auricle.  4.  Left  auricle.  5.  Pulmonary  artery,. 
6.  Right  pulmonary  artery.  7.  Left  pulmonary  artery.  8.  Remains  of  the  duc- 
tus  arteriosus.  9.  Aortic  arch.  10.  Superior  cava.  n.  Arteria  innominata:  in 
front  of  it  is  the  right  vena  innominata.  12.  Right  subclavian  vein  ;  behind  it 
is  its  corresponding  artery.  13.  Right  common  carotid  artery  and  vein.  14. 
Left  vena  innominata.  15.  Left  carotid  artery  and  vein.  16.  Left  subclavian 
artery  and  vein.  17.  Trachea.  18.  Right  bronchus.  19.  Left  bronchus.  20, 
20.  Pul  nonary  veins  ;  18,  20,  from  the  root  of  the  right  lung  ;  and  7,  19,  20,  the 
root  of  the  left.  21.  Upper  lobe  of  right  lung.  22.  Its  middle  lobe.  23.  Its  in- 
ferior lobe.  24.  Superior  lobe  of  left  lung.  25.  Its  lower  lobe. 

stairway,  no  longer  sweet  and  pure,  but  soiled  and 
unclean  in  dress,  and  even  deadly  in  her  intentions. 
13  Should  you  invite  her  immediately  to  return,  she 


102  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

will  accept  your  invitation,  but  she  does  it  as  youf 
enemy,  only  to  strike  at  your  very  life.  "  But  let  her 
go  away  for  a  time  and  shake  her  garments  in  thu 
wind,  and  sun  them  in  the  light  of  heaven,  and  she  is 
again  your  friend. 

But  how  does  the  oxygen  get  into  the  blood,  and 
the  carbonic  acid  gas  get  out,  when  there  is  always  a 
thin  membrane  between  the  blood  in  the  capillaries 
and  Aura  in  the  air-cells?  It  is  by  osmosis.  46  If  you 
should  fill  a  tumbler  with  milk,  and  tie  over  the  top  of 
it  a  fresh  bladder,  so  tightly  that  the  milk  could  not 
run  out,  and  should  then  immerse  it  in  a  dish  of  wa- 
ter, you  would  find  that  the  milk  became  watery,  and 
the  water  milky;  showing  that  milk  had  passed 
through  the  bladder  into  the  water,  and  water  had 
passed  into  the  milk.  This  is  called  osmosis,  or  the 
passage  of  fluids  through  animal  membrane.  46  And 
this  is  what  takes  place  in  the  lungs,  only  it  is  gases 
that  pass  in  and  out  instead  of  fluids.  It  is,  then,  by 
osmosis  that  the  blood  is  washed. 

This,  then,  is  what  Aura  has  to  do :  carry  oxygen 
into  the  lungs  and  bring  out  carbonic  acid ;  *7  and 
she  goes  in  and  out  about  twenty  times  in  a  minute, 
in  a  person  between  fifteen  and  twenty  years  of  age. 
Not  so  often  when  we  are  asleep;  a  little  less  fre- 
quently as  we  grow  older,  but  more  frequently  when 
we  are  younger.  It  is  well  enough  to  remember  that 
every  time  we  breathe,  the  heart  beats  about  four 
times. 

Why  do  we  breathe  ?  "  To  carry  air  into  the 
lungs."  That  is  true ;  but  that  is  not  all  the  truth 


TIDAL  AIR. 


103 


*'  We  breathe  air  into  the  lungs  so  that  we  may  get 
oxygen  into  the  blood.  49  Oxygen  is  the  most  im- 
portant food  of  the  body.  It  is  estimated  that  one- 
half  of  the  body  is  made  up  of  oxygen,  so  that  there 
is  a  constant  demand  for  it.  60  We  can  not  feed  the 
lungs  two  or  three  times  a  day,  as  we  can  the  stomach  ; 
the  supply  must  be  constant.  We  often  think,  when 
we  are  hungry,  bl  that  it  is  the  stomach  that  is  asking 
for  food,  but  in  reality  it  is  every  part  of  the  body 
that  is  saying,  "  I'm  hungry."  So  with  thirst.  It  is 
not  merely  the  mouth  and  throat  that  want  water; 
"  it  is  the  blood  and  all  the  tissues  that  cry  out,  "  We 
are  thirsty."  And  when  we  feel  suffocated,  and  gasp 
for  breath,  it  is  a  cry  of  the  whole  body  for  oxygen. 
63  Sighing,  from  whatever  cause,  is  evidence  of  lack  of 
oxygen  in  the  blood ;  the  same  is  true  of  yawning. 

64  You  must  not  think  that  the  lungs  are  filled  and 
emptied  at  every  breath,  for  it  is  not  so.  But  before 
I  say  moie  on  this  point  I  must  talk  to  you  a  little 
about  cubic  inches.  Now,  don't  pout  and  say,  "  I 
don't  like  figures,  they  are  not  interesting,"  for  you 
may  be  mistaken  ;  and  you  ought  to  learn  about  cubic 
inches,  for  that  is  the  way  volume  is  measured.  65  Do 
you  know  what  -a  cube  is  ?  Baby's  letter  blocks  are 
cubes.  If  you  examine  them  you  find  that  each  one 
has  six  equal  sides,  and  all  its  angles  are  right  angles. 
If  each  side  is  an  inch  square  the  whole  block  would 
be  a  cubic  inch.  "A  pint  cup  holds  about  thirty 
cubic  inches,  and  "that  is  nearly  the  amount  of  air  that, 
in  a  grown  person,  goes  in  and  out  with  every  breath. 
*8  This  we  call  tidal  air.  M  But  if  we  try,  we  can  take 


1 04  THE  HO  USE  BE  A  UTIFUL. 

in  more  air — about  one  hundred  cubic  inches.  This 
is  called  complemental  air;  and  be  sure  you  spell  it 
with  an  ^,  and  not  an  i.  If  we  60  make  an  effort  we 
can  breathe  out  more  than  the  pint  of  tidal  air — about 
one  hundred  cubic  inches — which  we  call  reserve  air, 
for  we  have  it  in  reserve  to  use  when  we  run  or  work 
hard.  81  But  there  is  a  like  amount  which  we  can  not 
breathe  out,  which  is  called  residual  air, 62  so  that  you 
see  the  whole  capacity  of  the  lungs  is  about  eight 
pints,  and  this  we  call  the  vital  capacity ;  that  is,  our 
ability  to  live.  But  if  only  one-eighth  of  the  air  in 
the  lungs  goes  in  and  out  constantly,  how  can  the 
blood  get  oxygen  and  give  up  its  carbonic  acid  gas  ? 
You  will  understand  this  when  I  tell  you  that  the  Gas 
family  have  a  very  familiar  way  of  associating  with 
each  other.  68  If  you  fill  a  cup  full  of  water  you  can 
not  put  in  another  cup  full  of  water  or  milk  without 
making  it  run  over ;  but  that  is  not  the  case  with  the 
Gas  family.  You  could  fill  the  cup  with  oxygen,  and 
then  with  hydrogen,  and  then  with  nitrogen,  and  the 
cup  would  not  run  over.  Each  would  fill  it  full,  and 
yet  all  of  them  together  would  fill  it  no  more  than 
full.  64  This  is  called  the  diffusion  of  gases,  and  it  is 
because  they  mix  with  each  other  in  this  way  that 
oxygen  circulates  throughout  the  lower  parts  of  the 
lungs. 

65  There  are  millions  of  active  little  fellows  called 
Cilia,  which  are  like  little  short  hairs  growing  all 
along,  and  standing  out  from  the  bronchial  tubes,  who 
assist  in  this  work.  "6  They  are  always  in  motion, 
lashing  the  air  and  driving  it  from  within  outward 


OXYGEN  A  FOOD.  105 

and  thus  aid  in  distributing  the  gases  upon  which  the 
aeration  of  the  blood  depends. 

What  a  fine  thing  it  is  that  all  this  wonderful  pro- 
cess of  cleansing  the  blood  and  providing  oxygen  for 
the  tissues  is  not  dependent  upon  our  thought  ! 
Night  and. day  we  breathe  without  thinking  about  it. 
97  Yet  we  ought  to  think  about  it  enough  to  provide 
ourselves  with  as  pure  air  as  possible ;  to  give  our 
lungs  plenty  of  room  to  work ;  and  to  use  the  proper 
muscles  in  breathing. 

68  We  should  never  forget  that  oxygen  is  food  for 
the  blood  and  tissues,  and  should  be  as  free  from  poi- 
son as  any  other  food  of  the  body.  We  should  let 
Aura  come  freely  into  our  living  and  sleeping  rooms 
to  cleanse  them  of  all  impurities,  69but  we  should  be 
careful  that  she  does  not  take  into  the  lungs  with  her 
any  such  poisons  as  tobacco ;  for  smoke  is  even  more 
hurtful  to  the  delicate  structures  of  the  lungs  than  to 
the  eye,  and  we  would  never  put  tobacco  smoke  into 
our  eyes. 

70  The  pollution  of  wells,  rivers,  and  lakes  is  punish- 
able by  law,  and  we  have  an  equal  right  to  demand 
that  the  air  we  breathe  shall  also  oe  free  from  pollu- 
tion. It  is  more  than  rudeness,  it  is  morally  wrong ; 
and  is  it  not  even  a  crime  for  tobacco-smokers  to  poi- 
son the  air  which  their  neighbors  must  breathe  ?  We 
should  insist  upon  it  as  far  as  possible  that  Aura 
should  enter  the  laundry  of  our  House  Beautiful,  as 
pure  and  sweet  as  God  has  made  her.  71  We  should 
also  insist  upon  it,  by  night  and  day,  that  she  should 
enter  and  depart  by  the  door  which  has  been  provided 


1 06  THE  JfO  USE  BEA  U  TIFUL. 

for  her,  and  never  by  the  pink  folding-doors,  unless  in 
a  great  emergency.  There  is  one  very  curious  thing 
about  her  coming  in  at  night.  7>  If,  while  we  are  asleep, 
the  folding-doors  drop  apart,  she  creeps  in  through 
them,  not  quietly,  like  a  thief  in  the  night,  but  with  a 
queer  noise,  a  gurgling,  rasping,  and  blowing  sound, 
as  if  she  were  trying  to  waken  us  up  to  shut  the  door. 
This  is  what  we  call  snoring,  and  is  not  only  an  un- 
pleasant but  an  unhealthful  habit.  "  Be  sure  to  shut 
the  folding-doors  tightly  when  you  go  to  bed,  and 
keep  them  shut.  And  to  do  this  you  must  keep  them 
shut  during  the  day  when  not  obliged  to  open  them. 
74  It  gives  a  very  foolish  expression  to  the  face,  to  go 
with  the  mouth  open.  If  you  wish  to  look  and  feel 
brave  and  courageous,  close  your  lips  firmly  together. 
If  you  wish  to  keep  dust  and  germs  of  disease  out  of 
your  lungs,  keep  your  mouth  shut  when  you  breathe. 
76  If  you  wish  to  have  a  clear,  sweet  voice  ;  to  avoid 
colds;  to  look  as  if  you  knew  something;  to  avoid 
sore  throats  and  coughs ;  in  short,  if  you  wish  to  be 
healthy,  wealthy,  and  wise,  shut  your  mouth  and  open 
your  eyes.  * 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE   FURNACE. 

I  HAVE  just  been  calling  on  a  lady  who  sat  in  a 
cheerful  room  by  an  open  coal  fire,  which  glowed  so 
brilliantly  in  the  grate  that  it  made  me  happy  just  to 
look  at  it.  When  I  spoke  admiringly  of  the  fire  and 
said  I  wondered  that  it  kept  the  room  so  warm,  the 
lady  replied : 

"  Oh,  we  do  not  depend  altogether  on  this  fire  for 
heat.  We  have  a  furnace  in  the  cellar,  and  a  stove  in 
the  hall  besides." 

I  have  been  thinking  how  our  House  Beautiful  is 
warmed,  and  I  am  reminded  of  the  lady's  pleasant 
home,  and  how  much,  in  their  heating  apparatus,  the 
two  are  alike,  neither  depending  solely  upon  one 
means  of  generating  heat.  If  you  please,  we  will  first 
pay  a  visit  to  our  Furnace. 

1  We  find  it  located  on  the  right  side,  below  the 
Laundry,  and  even  below  the  floor  called  the  dia- 
phragm. In  fact,  it  hangs  from  this  floor,  fastened 
to  it  by  ligaments,  and  so  is  to  some  extent  movable. 
1  This  Furnace  is  known  as  the  liver,  and  the  Physiol- 
ogy says  it  is  the  "  largest  gland  in  the  body." 

"  But  what  is  a  gland  ?  " 

That  is  right.  You  must  always  stop  me  when  I 
say  something  you  do  not  understand. 

(107) 


io8 


THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 


*  Glands  are  organs  of  the  body  in  which  something 
is  manufactured  from  the  blood  as  it  passes  through 


THE  LIVER  IN  CONNECTION  WITH  OTHER  ORGANS. 

a    Lungs.     3.  Heart.     5.   Liver.     6.   Gall-bladder.     8.  Stomach. 
Small  intestines. 


Coloi 


them.  The  salivary  glands  manufacture  Saliva,  one 
of  the  assistants  in  digestion.  4  The  liver  is  a  gland, 
and  manufactures  Bile.  It  also  makes  sugar;  and 


WHAT  IS  A   GLAND?  IOg 

v/here  so  much  manufacturing  is  going  on,  there 
must  of  necessity  be  a  fire.  &We  can  not  see  the 
fire,  but  it  has  been  proven  that  the  blood  coming 
from  the  liver  is  warmer  than  that  going  to  it,  so  it 
certainly  was  warmed  in  passing  through,  and  there- 
fore we  are  justified  in  calling  the  liver  a  furnace,  are 
we  not  ?  even  if  we  can  not  tell  just  how  it  produces 
heat. 

"As  I  said,  it  is  the  largest  gland  in  the  body, 
weighing  from  three  to  four  pounds.  You  will 
remember  that  such  statements  are  always  made 
in  regard  to  a  grown  person,  and  for  children  are 
proportionately  less.  7  It  is  nearly  a  foot  broad  and 
half  a  foot  thick.  8It  lies  just  behind  the  short, 
floating  ribs,  and  sometimes  when  they  are  squeezed 
by  a  tight  dress  or  corset  '  they  press  into  the  liver 
and  make  ruts  in  it,  and  then  it  complains, 10  sometimes 
by  a  pain  in  the  side,  sometimes  by  painting  the  out- 
side of  the  house  an  ugly  yellow  color,  and  making 
the  tongue  rough,  and  leaving  a  bad  taste  in  the 
mouth.  Then  people  say  they  are  "  "bilious,"  and 
that  always  means  that  the  liver  is  scolding  about 
something. 

•  There  are  many  wonderful  things  about  the  liver 
that  I  shall  leave  you  to  find  out  when  you  grow 
older  and  study  more ;  12  but  I  will  tell  you  that  it  is 
divided  into  two  lobes,  the  right  lobe  being  six  times 
larger  than  the  left,  and  divided  from  it  by  a  deep 
fissure  or  crack. 

13  In  a  little  niche  in  the  right  lobe  there  is  nicely 
stowed  away  a  little  jug,  that  will  hold  about  14  eight 

S 


I  10  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

teaspoonfuls,  and  it  is  filled  with  the  bitterest  stuff 
imaginable,  the  bile  or  gall,  and  its  name  is  the  gall- 
bladder. Chickens  have  just  such  a  little  jug,  and 
a  cook  is  very  careful  not  to  spill  any  of  its  con- 
tents on  the  meat,  for  she  knows  it  would  not  be  eat- 
able if  flavored  with  gall.  This  is  where  Bile  stays 
when  not  needed  in  the  Butler's  Pantry  or  in  the  Din- 
ing-room. 

16 1  said  the  liver  is  divided  into  two  lobes,  but  in 
reality  there  are  various  fissures  which  divide  it  into 
five  lobes ;  and  it  has  five  ligaments  which  support 
it,  and  five  arteries  to  bring  the  blood  to  it,  and  five 
veins  to  carry  the  blood  away  from  it.  That  makes 
a  quartette  of  quintettes,  doesn't  it?  that  is,  four 
groups  and  five  in  a  group. 

Oh,  dear !  I  seem  to  be  all  the  time  having  to  cor- 
rect myself  in  this  article.  I  said  the  arteries  carried 
blood  to  the  liver ;  and  here  a  big  vein,  called  Portal 
Vein,  nudges  me  and  says :  16 "  I  think  you  forgot 
that  I  carry  blood  to  the  liver,  and  I  am  not  an 
artery,  I  am  a  vein."  I  am  very  glad  he  spoke  just 
then,  for  that  reminds  me  that  I  must  tell  you  about 
this  portal  vein. 

17  When  Blood  leaves  the  heart,  and  starts  to  go 
down  to  the  feet,  she  finds  a  great  many  passageways 
leading  downward,  but  they  do  not  all  go  to  the  toes. 
Some  of  them  end  in  capillaries  of  the  intestines,  and 
from  these  the  blood  is  gathered  up  in  veins  and  car- 
ried,  by  this  short  cut,  to  the  liver.  This  system  of 
veins  is  called  the  portal  system,  and  the  many  small 
veins  are  all  merged  in  a  large  one,  called  the  portal 


THE  PORTAL  SYSTEM. 


Ill 


vein.  It  is  supposed  that  the  blood  receives  from 
the  capillaries  of  the  intestines  some  impurities  that 
ought  to  be  gotten  rid  of  as  soon  as  possible,  so  they 
are  sent  at  once  to  be  burnt  up  in  the  furnace,  or  to 
be  cast  out  through  the  bile  duct  into  the  intestines, 
and  so  eliminated  from  the  system.  18  The  portal 
vein  divides  many  times  in  the  liver,  and  together 
with  minute  branches  of  another  vein  and  artery,  and 
a  duct  called  the  hepatic  duct,  forms  little  round 
knots,  which  are 
termed  lobules.  19  In 
and  between  these 
lobules  are  cells  of 
the  liver-substance. 
30  The  artery  known 
as  the  hepatic  artery 
(hepatic  means  be- 
longing to  the  liver) 
brings  the  blood 
which  nourishes  the 
liver.  21  The  hepatic 
duct  isthe  tube  which 
conveys  the  bile  either  to  the  butler's  pantry,  or,  when 
not  needed  there,  into  the  cystic  duct,  and  thence  to 
the  gall-bladder,  which  seems  to  serve  no  other  pur- 
pose  than  that  of  a  jug,  in  which  the  bile  is  stored 
when  not  needed  in  digestion.  22  It  is  estimated  that 
as  much  as  two  pounds  of  bile  are  made  every  day  by 
the  liver  of  an  adult,  that  is,  a  grown  person.  88  A 
part  of  this  bile,  you  will  remember,  is  used  in  pre- 
paring fat  for  digestion,  and  a  part  is  probably  waste 


LOBULHS   OF   LlVKR. 


H2  TFIE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

material  from  the  portal  system.  Another  office  ol 
bile  is  to  keep  the  food  from  spoiling,  and  also  to 
make  it  slippery,  so  that  it  will  be  easily  moved  along 
through  the  intestines. 

14  Just  how  or  where  the  bile  is  made,  our  wise  men 
have  not  yet  discovered ;  but  it  is  probably  made  in 
those  wee  little  cells  in  and  between  the  lobules. 
"  And  in  these  same  cells  it  is  also  supposed  that  the 
sugar  is  made.  26  What  wonderful  little  live  kettles 
they  are !  How  is  it  possible  that  from  the  same 
blood  they  can  make  the  bitter  bile  and  the  sweet 
sugar?  It  is  more  amazing  than  any  fairy  tale  I  ever 
read.  27  But  they  do  it,  and  we  have  learned  that 
they  make  the  sugar  out  of  the  starch  we  eat,  just  as 
saliva  changes  the  starch  to  sugar,  you  remember. 
And  we  have  learned  that  they  make  sugar  out  of  the 
albuminous  foods ;  and,  indeed,  it  would  seem  that 
some  forms  of  albumen  can  not  be  used  in  the  body 
unless  changed  into  sugar  by  the  liver. 

28  And  all  the  sweet  things  which  we  eat  have  to  be 
changed  into  liver-sugar  before  they  can  do  the  work 
they  have  to  do ;  that  is,  be  consumed  to  keep  us 
warm.  And  if  you  think  of  this  a  moment,  you  will 
see  why  it  is  best  not  to  eat  too  much  candy.  28  The 
liver  is  all  the  time  making  sugar,  and  at  the  same 
time  must  make  over  the  sweets  which  we  eat  into 
liver-sugar,  or  glycogen,  and  if  we  eat  a  great  deal  of 
candy,  we  give  the  furnace  too  much  to  do,  and  per- 
haps we  kindle  too  big  a  fire  and  have  what  we  call  a 
bilious  fever;  though  that  does  not  always  come  from 
eating  too  much  candy,  it  may  come  from  many 
other  causes. 


0X1  DA  TION.  1 1 3 

It  is  supposed  that  this  glycogen  is  consumed  in 
the  lungs,  and  helps  to  keep  the  house  always  at  the 
same  temperature.  s°And  that  is  another  astonish- 
ing fact,  that,  no  matter  how  cold  or  how  warm  the 
weather,  our  House  Beautiful  always  maintains  an 
equable  heat  —  about  ninety-eight  degrees  F.,  that 
means  by  the  thermometer  invented  by  Fahrenheit. 
Some  other  thermometers  do  not  measure  that  way, 
so  we  use  the  F.  to  indicate  which  one  we  mean.  Nine- 
ty-eight degrees  is  pretty  warm  weather,  we  think,  in 
summer,  but  we  do  not  complain  because  our  House 
Beautiful  is  so  warm.  Indeed,  we  are  sick  if  it  gets 
one  or  two  degrees  colder,  and  also  if  it  gets  one  or 
two  degrees  warmer,  while  in  our  dwellings,  or  in  the 
weather,  we  can  endure  great  changes  without  injury. 

31  "  But  we  get  much  warmer  than  ninety-eight  de- 
grees when  we  run  fast,  do  we  not  ?  " 

We  feel  much  warmer,  but  in  reality  the  thermom- 
eter would  not  show  as  great  an  increase  of  heat  as 
we  would  suppose,  for  there  are  ways  provided  for 
cooling  us  off  when  we  get  too  warm,  of  which  we 
shall  speak  hereafter. 

But  this  fact  of  getting  warm  when  we  run,  shows 
us  another  way  in  which  heat  is  made  in  the  body. 
M  When  we  exercise  our  muscles  we  use  up  muscular 
tissue  faster  than  when  we  are  idle,  and  the  blood  cir- 
culates more  rapidly,  bringing  oxygen  to  build  them 
up  again,  and  this  oxidation  produces  heat.  33  You 
will  learn  when  you  study  chemistry  that  combustion 
is  oxidation.  When  it  proceeds  slowly,  as  in  iron, 
we  call  it  rusting ;  and  when  it  proceeds  rapidly,  as 


ri4 


THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 


with  wood,  we  call  it  burning.  Whether  we  can  call 
it  burning  in  the  body  might  be  questioned,  so  we 
will  simply  call  it  oxidation,  and  understand  that  it 
produces  heat.  And  you  will  then  comprehend  why 
running  and  jumping  make  us  warm. 

34  Breathing  makes  us  warm  too.  We  may  not  be 
able  to  tell  how,  but  we  know  that  heat  must,  to 
some  extent,  be  manufactured  in  the  lungs,  or  breath- 
ing would  cool  us  off.  35  But  instead  of  the  cold  air 
cooling  us  very  much,  we  warm  it  in  our  lungs,  and 
we  stay  at  the  same  temperature.  The  ancients  used 
to  think  that  the  whole  use  of  the  lungs  was  to  cool 
us  off ;  but  we  know  better  than  that.  Through  them 
we  are  furnished  v/ith  oxygen,  and  helped  to  keep 
warm.  Cold-blooded  animals,  you  know,  breathe 
very  little. 

36  So,  you  see,  we  have  three  modes  of  heating  our 
house  :  by  the  furnace,  by  the  laundry,  and  by  mo- 
tion. You  might  be  astonished  to  know  how  fast 
motion  will  warm  a  muscle.  "  Sawing  wood  for  five 
minutes  raises  the  temperature  of  the  biceps  muscle 
in  the  arm  two  degrees.  That  would  be  a  first-rate 
way  for  cold  boys  to  get  warm ;  and  I  have  known  a 
broom  to  do  as  much  for  a  cold  girl. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

THE  \IYSTERIOUS  CHAMBERS. 

ALL  houses,  that  are  worth  anything  for  a  story, 
have  a  mysterious  chamber, — often  with  a  secret 
door,  or  with  the  entrance-way  walled  up  so  that  no 
one  can  get  in, — and  every  one  wonders  what  strange, 
uncanny  thing  may  be  hidden  therein.  Our  House 
Beautiful  has  several  mysterious  rooms.  They  are  all 
open  to  inspection,  to  be  sure ;  yet  no  one  has  ever 
been  wise  enough  to  find  out  just  what  is  going  on 
in  them,  though  a  great  many  people  have  made 


guesses  at  it. 


1  We  have  been  told  that  secretion  is  making  from 
the  blood  a  new  material  that  is  not  found  in  that 
form  in  the  blood.  Bile  is  a  secretion  ;  so  is  gas- 
tric juice,  and  all  the  other  digestive  fluids.  2  Ex- 
cretion is  separating  from  the  blood  something  that 
already  exists  in  it  and  which  is  not  wanted  in  the  sys- 
tem, as  the  carbonic  acid  gas. 

Our  wise  men,  puzzling  over  these  mysterious  cham- 
bers, have  wondered  whether  they  could  be  for  the 
purpose  of  manufacturing  something, — that  is,  secre- 
tion ;  or  merely  for  getting  rid  of  waste, — that  is,  ex- 
cretion. s  But  all  excretory  organs  have  a  tube,  of 
duct,  for  carrying  off  the  excretion,  and  these  have 
none.  *  They  are  fitted  up  with  all  the  arteries,  capiK 

("5) 


1 1 6  THE  HO  USE  BE  A  UT1FUL . 

laries,  and  veins,  but  no  waste-pipe.  They  are  there- 
fore called  ductless  glands.  &  There  is  nothing  new 
made  in  the  blood  as  it  passes  through  them,  hence 
they  are  not  for  secretion. 

6  One  of  these  puzzling  little  chambers,  called  the 
thyroid  gland,  is  located  in  the  throat,  a  little  above 
the  breast-bone,  and  is  fitted  to  the  front  of  the  tra- 
chea. It  is  divided  into  two  little  lobes,  or  rooms 
each  about  two  inches  long,  and  half  an  inch  wide. 
These  rooms  are  divided  many  times  by  bands  of 
fibre,  so  that  they  are  filled  with  many  small  holes, 
a  good  deal  like  a  sponge,  and  they  are  supplied  with 
numerous  blood-vessels.  But  what  is  all  this  for  ? 
This  thyroid  gland  has  been  taken  out  of  animals,  and 
they  have  lived  and  apparently  kept  well.  It  is  often 
diseased  in  human  beings  without  causing  any  gen- 
eral disturbance.  Expert  chemists  have  analyzed  the 
blood  that  passes  through  it,  but  can  not  find  that  it 
is  in  the  least  changed.  We  shall  be  obliged  to  say 
that  we  do  not  know  of  what  use  the  thyroid  gland 
is  in  our  house.  7  The  thymus  gland  is  another  duct- 
less gland,  which  is  not  found  in  the  House  Beautiful 
after  it  has  got  its  growth.  *  It  is  situated  partly  in 
the  thorax  and  partly  in  the  neck,  and  is  made  up  of 
little  masses  of  lobules  fastened  to  a  fibrous  cord,  and 
can  be  unravelled,  as  it  were.  In  little  babies  it  is 
quite  large,  and  keeps  on  growing  for  the  first  two 
years  of  life  :  then  it  begins  to  wither,  and  finally  dis- 
appears altogether.  It  would  seem  that  it  had  some- 
thing to  do  with  growth,  though  we  do  not  know 
what ;  but  the  little  folks  keep  on  growing,  even  if 


SUPRA-RENAL  CAPSULES.  nj 

we  don't  know,,  and  none  of  us  can  tell  when  or  how 
this  strange  little  room  disappears.  The  house  does 
not  change  in  its  form,  and  we  are  unconscious  that 
we  have  one  roomrless. 

9  There  are  some  tiny  little  chapels  at  the  base  of 
the  brain,  called  the  pituitary  body  and  the  pineal 
gland,  which  are  open  to  examination,  but  mysteri- 
ously closed  so  far  as  all  knowledge  of  their  use  is  con- 
cerned. 10  Who  will  ever  find  out  and  tell  us  about 
them  ?  Perhaps  some  of  you  young  folks.  Who  can 
tell  ?  You  have  such  quick,  bright  eyes,  and  are  learn- 
ing from  us  such  wonderful  things ;  and  some  day 
you  will  study  for  yourselves,  and  in  turn  become 
our  teachers.  But  we  are  not  yet  through  with  the 
mysterious  chambers.  "  There  are  two  more,  termed 
the  supra-renal  capsules,  that  are  located  near  what 
we  call  the  small  of  the  back,  but  which  physiologists 
speak  of  as  the  lumbar  region.  These  capsules  are 
attached  to  a  couple  of  other  rooms,  called  the  kid- 
neys. They  are  in  shape  like  a  flat  triangle,  about  an 
inch  and  a  half  long.  They  are  proportionately  larger 
in  children  than  in  grown  people.  They  are  also  with- 
out ducts.  Their  walls  are  made  of  cells  inclosed  in 
tubes,  packed  closely  together.  The  interior  is  filled 
up  with  bands  and  holes,  quite  like  a  sponge,  and 
they  have  many  blood-vessels. 

A  great  doctor,  named  Addison,  thought  he  had 
discovered. what  these  supra-renal  capsules  were  for 
He  noticed  that  in  a  certain  disease  the  skin  became 
of  a  peculiar  brown,  and  he  found  that  in  most  of 
these  cases  the  capsules  were  disorganized,  or  in  a 


r  1 8  THE  HO  USE  BE  A  U  TIFUL. 

dying  condition ;  12  and  he  concluded  that  they  had 
something  to  do  with  the  formation  of  pigment  or 
coloring  matter ;  for  you  know  that  dyestuffs  are 
made  in  our  house  to  color  the  hair  and  the  skin,  giv- 
ing to  some  the  hair  and  complexion  of  the  blonde, 
to  others  that  of  the  brunette.  But  after  all  investi- 
gation, and  many  experiments  on  animals,  we  are 
told  that  diseases  of  the  supra-renal  capsules  do  not 
always  cause  a  bronzed  skin,  and  people  sometimes 
have  that  peculiar  color  when  the  capsules  are  healthy. 
They  also  tell  us  that  the  capsules  are  not  necessary  to 
life,  that  they  can  be  removed  without  serious  injury, 
and  there  they  leave  us,  still  asking,  "  What  are  they 
for?" 

15  But  now  we  come  to  the  last  and  largest  of  these 
mysterious  chambers.  It  is  a  ductless  gland  ;  it  is 
located  on  the  left  side,  above  the  hip,  and  is  called 
the  spleen.  16  In  a  grown  person  it  is  about  five 
inches  long  and  four  broad,  and  weighs  but  little  more 
than  six  ounces.  On  the  inside  it,  like  the  other  mys- 
terious rooms,  is  full  of  holes  like  a  sponge.  If  a 
spleen  is  cut  in  two,  on  the  surface  of  the  pieces  thus 
laid  open  to  view  there  can  be  seen,  with  the  naked 
eye,  little  round  or  oval  white  spots  which  have  a  big 
name,  the  malpighian  corpuscles.  They  are  little  cells 
which  grow  on  the  branches  of  the  splenic  artery,  like 
nuts  on  the  branches  of  a  leafless  tree,  and  they  are 
filled  with  capillaries.  This  makes  a  very  pretty  pic- 
ture when  we  look  at  it  through  the  microscope,  these 
little  clusters  of  cells  on  the  arteries,  but  we  do  not 
know  what  they  are  for.  "  This  whole  spleen  is  a 


THE  SPLEEN  A  CONUNDRUM.  l  Ig 

conundrum  which  no  physiologist  has  yet  been  able 
to  guess.  They  have  noticed  that  while  the  little 
people  in  the  dining-roxDm  are  very  busy  eating,  the 
blood-vessels  of  the  spleen  become  fuller  of  blood, 
and  they  have  guessed  it  was  a  sort  of  reservoir  for 
blood,  or  diverticulum,  they  called  it ;  a  place  to  which 
blood  might  be  diverted  or  turned,  if  t^ere  was  dan- 
ger of  too  much  going  to  the  intestines.  They  have 
also  noticed  that  the  blood  coming  from  the  spleen 


PANCREAS,  SPLEEN,  AND  DUODENUM. 

i.  The  spleen.  2.  Its  diaphragmatic  extremity.  3.  Its  inferior  portion.  4.  The 
fissure  for  its  vessels.  5.  The  pancreas.  6.  Its  head,  or  the  lesser  pancreas.  7. 
Duodenum.  8.  Coronary  arteries  of  the  stomach.  9.  The  hepatic  artery.  10. 
The  splenic  artery,  n.  The  splenic  vein. 

has  a  larger  proportion  of  white  corpuscles  than  else- 
where ;  and  they  have  guessed  that  it  was  a  place 
where  white  corpuscles  were  made.  "  Then,  too, 
they  have  noticed  that  in  the  blood  coming  from  the 
spleen  there  were  fewer  red  corpuscles,  and  they  have 
guessed  that  it  was  a  place  where  red  corpuscles  were 
destroyed  ;  but  these  are  only  guesses.  No  one  says 
positively,  "  I  know  just  what  is  done  in  that  myste- 
rious chamber."  The  ancients  fancied  that  it  had 
something  to  do  with  the  temper,  and  when  a  person 


r  20  THE  HO  USE  BE  A  UT1FUL. 

was  ill-humored  they  called  it  being  splenetic,  or  full 
of  spleen.  Even  people  at  the  present  day  say,  if 
they  dislike  a  thing  very  much,  that  they  "  spleen 
against  it,"  showing  that  the  ancient  idea  has  fixed 
itself  in  the  language.  Those  ancients  had  some  very 
queer  ideas,  and  in  many  respects  we  are  much  wiser 
than  they ;  but  in  regard  to  the  spleen  modern  phys- 
iologists seem  to  know  little  more  than  the  ancients. 

"  They  all  feel  sure,  however,  that  it  has  something 
to  do  with  moderating  the  appetite,  a  sort  of  regu- 
lator, as  it  were ;  for  they  find  that  dogs,  when  the 
spleen  is  removed,  are  voraciously  hungry,  and  eat 
things  they  would  not  otherwise  touch  ;  but  they  act 
just  the  same  way  after  other  organs  are  removed,  so 
that  proves  nothing.  The  spleen  can  be  removed 
without  destroying  life,  and  one  eminent  physiologist 
says  that  is  really  all  we  know  definitely  about  it. 

Do  you  suppose  these  tantalizing  rooms  are  merely 
little  closets,  put  in  to  fill  up  niches  and  corners  that 
would  otherwise  be  empty,  and  that  they  serve  no 
real  purpose  in  the  household  economy  ?  I  don't 
think  so,  for  the  Great  Architect  never  makes  any- 
thing without  a  purpose,  although  we  are  not  always 
wise  enough  to  discover  what  that  purpose  is.  At 
one  time  our  whole  house  was  as  much  of  a  mystery 
as  these  few  chambers  now  are.  Through  many  cen- 
turies men  have  been  studying,  and  little  by  little  they 
have  learned  what  we  have  told  you  about  the  engine, 
the  laundry,  and  the  other  wonderful  apartments,  and 
wise  men  are  still  studying,  and  some  day  in  the  fu- 
ture  some  one  will  explain  to  us  all  that  now  remains 


A  KE  Y  TO   THE  MYSTERY.  I2I 

a  mystery.  Physiologists,  are  stimulated  to  study  by 
the  very  fact  of  mystery.  You  remember  that  Blue- 
beard gave  Fatima  a  key  and  told  her  not  to  open  a 
certain  room,  and  that  made  her  desire  very  much  to 
see  what  that  room  contained  ;  and  when  she  opened 
it,  she  found  it  full  of  the  dead  bodies  of  former  wives 
who  had  been  killed  for  yielding  to  their  curiosity. 
But  not  thus  will  be  rewarded  the  man  or  woman 
(and  I  wish  it  might  be  a  woman)  who  shall  unfold 
the  secrets  of  our  mysterious  chambers.  The  name 
of  that  discoverer  will  be  rendered  immortal.  The 
rooms  are  not  locked ;  walk  in  and  examine  for  your- 
self. Somewhere  there  is  a  key  to  the  mystery,  a  clue 
to  the  unfolding  of  the  secret,  a  hidden  spring  which, 
once  touched,  will  reveal  some  wondrous  trans- 
formation to  our  gaze. 


CHAPTER     XVI. 

THE  TELEGRAPH. 

YOU  are  probably  aware  that  the  greatest  telegraph 
system  in  the  world  is  that  of  the  Western  Union 
Telegraph  Company,  the  secretary  of  which  has,  at 
my  request,  kindly  given  me  some  valuable  informa- 
tion regarding  it.  There  are  about  fifteen  hundred 
telegraph  wires  which  enter  their  fine  twelve-story 
building  on  Broadway,  New  York.  There  are  two 
hundred  and  eighty  thousand  cells  employed,  in  all 
their  various  offices,  to  generate  electricity  and  keep  up 
a  current  over  nearly  half  a  million  miles  of  wire,  over 
which  pass  forty  million  messages  in  a  year.  These 
figures  are  overwhelming,  and  you  are  doubtful  about 
my  finding  anything  to  equal  that  in  our  little  House 
Beautiful.  Do  not  lose  courage,  young  friends,  but 
let  us  with  a  strong  faith  in  our  great  Master-builder 
begin  the  study  of  our  great  telegraph  system. 

1  Our  great  central  office  is  located  in  the  observa- 
tory, and  is  called  the  *  encephalon,  or,  as  we  know  it 
better,  the  brain.  Here  there  are  more  than  nine 
hundred  millions  of  cells  always  busy  making  our 
electricity,  which  we  call  "nervous  fluid,  and  sending  it 
off  over  myriads  4  of  little  white  threads  which  are 
our  wires,  and  which  are  known  as  nerves.  'Twelve 
pairs  of  these  nerve-cables  start  out  from  the  brain  or 

(122) 


THE  ENCEPHALON. 


123 


central  office.     As  I  told  you,  the  great  central  office 
of  the  Union  Telegraph  Company  is  in  New  York ;  but 
in  Philadelphia,  Boston,  Chicago,  and  all  large  cities, 
there    are    great    offices 
scarcely  less   in    import- 
ance,   and    from    these, 
vires  go  to  smaller  way 
offices  in  all  parts  of  the 
country.  So  in  our  house 
we  have  a  series  of  branch 
offices.      7  They   are    lo- 
cated in   the   spinal  col- 
umn, from  which 8  thirty- 
one  pairs  of  nerve-cables 
are  sent  off. 

You  remember  8  how 
the  backbone  is  made 
up  of  twenty-six  bones 
placed  one  upon  the  oth- 
er, each  with  a  hole 
through  it,  thus  making 
a  10long  tube,  and  it  is  in 
this  tube  that  the  spinal 
cord  is  placed.  "  It  is 
made  of  the  same  mate- 
rial as  the  brain,  that  is, 
of  gray  cells  and  white 
connecting  matter. 

We  should  not  be  far  out  of  the  way  to  say  that 
there  are  more  nerve-cells  located  in  various  parts  of 
the  body  outside  of  the  brain,  than  are  found  in  the 


I' HE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM. 


124 


THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 


brain,  so  that  we  may  reasonably  calculate  that  we 
have,  in  each  House  Beautiful,  two  billions  of  cells 
which  are  generating  nerve  fluid,  while  the  telegraph 
company  has  but  two  hundred  and  eighty  thousand 
for  all  their  offices,  great  and  small. 

13  In  the  brain  the  gray  cells  are  on  the  outside,  but 
:8in  the  spinal  cord  they  are  collected  on  the  interior 
14  and  surrounded  by  the  white  matter.  It  is  this 
16  white  fibrous  material  which  forms  the  connecting 
wires  or  nerves,  18  and  they  issue  from  the  brain  and 
cord  in  17  fine,  white  threads,  and  are  distributed  to 
every  part  of  the  body.  18  In  certain  places  there  are 
little  bunches  of  nerve-cells  and  white  matter.  Each 
of  these  is  called  a  ganglion—  plural  ganglia — and 
19  each  may  be  considered  as  a  little  battery.  They 
are  all  very  closely  connected  with  the  grand  central 
office  in  the  head  by  the  nerve-fibres,  and  all  together, 
80  that  is,  the  brain  and  its  twelve  pairs  of  nerve- 
cables,  and  the  cord  and  its  thirty-one  pairs  of  nerve- 
cables,  are  called  the  cerebro-spinal  nervous  system. 

Telegraph  wires  are  insulated,  that  is,  ai  kept  from 
touching  each  other,  sometimes  by  putting  them  up 
on  poles  at  a  distance  apart,  sometimes  by  wrapping 
each  wire  in  a  coating  of  lead  and  then  forming  them 
into  bundles  wrapped  in  another  sheath,  and  the 
whole  is  called  a  cable.  The  nerves  which  pass  from 
the  brain  and  spinal  cord  might  properly  be  called 
nerve-cables,  for  they  are  made  up  of  bundles  of  fibres 
and  each  fibre  is  a  nerve.  When  laid  together  in  a 
bundle  they  are  wrapped  in  a  sheath  called  **  the  neu- 
rilemma,  and  the  whole  is  also  called  a  nerve,  and 


CONNECTION  OF  NERVE-CABLES. 


125 


sometimes  it  becomes  rather  confusing,  for  we  are  not 
sure  whether  a  single  nerve  is  meant  or  a  bundle.  So 
we  will  use  the  term  nerve- 
cable  when  we  mean  a  bundle 
of  nerves. 

13  Each  nerve  is  a  minute 
tube,  or  tubule,  filled  with 
transparent  material,  which 
makes  it  look  like  a  glass  tube 
filled  with  a  clear  fluid.  This 
material  is  called  the  "axis 
cylinder,  and*5  through  it  nerve 
force  is  communicated. 

Each  fibre  goes  along  by 
itself  from  its  starting-point  to 
near  its  termination,  when  it 
divides  and  subdivides  and 
ends  in  i6  one  of  five  ways : 
either  in  a  fine  network,  or  in 
little  bunches  or  bulbs  like  the 
root  of  a  lily;  or  in  free  ends  ; 
or  in  expansions  called  end- 
plates. 

Sometimes  nerve-cables  get 
very  sociable,  "  and  inter- 
change fibres  as  they  go  along, 
but  each  fibre  still  retains 
its  own  individuality.  It  merely  leaves  the  neu- 
rilemma  of  its  own  cable  and  enters  the  neurilem- 
ma  of  another  cable.  This  gives  them  a  wider 
connection.  It  is  like  getting  married,  which,  you 

9 


MINUTE  NERVOUS  STRUCTURE. 

The  microscopic  elements  of  the 
nervous  structure,  i.  Mode 
of  termination  of  white  nerve- 
fibres  in  loops  ;  three  of  these 
loops  are  simple,  the  fourth 
is  convoluted.  The  latter  is 
found  in  situations  where  a  high 
degree  of  sensation  exists.  2. 
A  white  nerve-fibre  from  the 
brain,  showing  the  varicose  or 
knotty  appearance  produced  by 
traction  or  pressure.  3.  A 
white  nerve-fibre  enlarged  to 
show  its  structure,  a  tubular 
envelope  and  a  contained  sub- 
stance—neurilemma  and  neu- 
rine.  4.  A  nerve-cell,  showing 
its  composition  of  a  granul&r- 
looking  capsule  and  granule 
contents.  5.  Its  nucleus,  con- 
taining a  nucleolus.  6.  A 
nerve-cell,  from  which  several 
processes  are  given  off;  it  con- 
tains also  a  nucleated  nucleus. 
7.  Nerve-granules. 


126 


THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 


are  aware,  increases  the  number  of  our  relations,  and 
gives  us  a  wider  connection  and  more  extended  sym- 


//\/\\ 

d'  d  b   c  a 

TUBULAR  FIBRE  OR  SPINAL  NERVE. 

•.  Axis  cylinder,  b.  Inner  border  of  white  substance,  c ,  c.  Outer  border  of  white 
substance,  d,  d.  Tubular  membrane.  B.  Tubular  fibres ;  *,  in  a  natural  state 
showing  the  parts  as  in  A.  f.  The  white  substance  and  axis  cylinder  interrupted 
by  pressure,  while  the  tubular  membrane  remains,  g.  The  same  with  varicosities. 
k.  Various  appearances  of  the  white  substance  and  axis  cylinder  forced  out  of 
the  tubular  membrane  by  pressure.  /.  Broken  end  of  tubular  fibre,  with  the 
white  substance  closed  over  it.  K.  Lateral  bulging  of  white  substance  and  axis 
cylinder,  from  pressure.  /.  The  same,  more  complete,  g* '.  Varicose  fibres  of 
various  sizes,  from  the  cerebellum.  C.  Gelatinous  fibres  from  the  solar  plexus, 
treated  with  acetic  acid  to  exhibit  their  cell  nuclei.  B  and  C  are  magnified  320 
diameters. 

pathies.     So  a  nerve-cable  will  send  off  fibres  at  dif- 
ferent points  to  join  other  cables,  and  in  like  manner 


CONNECTION  OF  NERVE-CABLES.  I2; 

it  will  receive  fibres  from  other  cables.  S8  But  although 
fibres  are  thus  sent  from  home,  as  it  were,  and  be- 
come members  of  other  cables,  they  never,  at  any 
point,  lose  their  identity  ;  they  are  one  fibre  from  the 
beginning  to  the  end,  although  through  them,  many 
cables  may  become  connected.  This  explains  why, 
when  we  are  hurt,  we  may  feel  it  in  more  than  one 
place.  It  becomes  a  sort  of  family  injury,  you  see, 
which  affects  all  the  members  of  the  family.  Some 


NERVES  FROM  THE  SPINAL  CORD. 
C.  Anterior  root.     D.  Posterior  root. 

one  hurts  Sarah's  boy,  and  all  of  Sarah's  family  and 
relatives  are  indignant  on  account  of  it. 

28  Nerve  fibres  are  of  two  kinds,  those  which  con- 
vey sensations,  as  the  sense  of  touch,  30or  the  feeling 
of  pain  ;  and  those  which  convey  such  31  impressions 
as  will  produce  motion.  3a  They  never  interchange 
works.  A  nerve  of  sensation  never  conveys  a  com- 
mand to  produce  a  motion,  and  a  nerve  of  motion 
never  carries  a  sensation,  or  the  notice  of  a  sensation. 


1 28  THE  HO  USE  BE  A  UTIFUL. 

A  nerve-cable  may  be  made  up  of  both  nerves  of  mo- 
tion and  nerves  of  sensation  ;  33but  although  they  lie 
side  by  side  they  do  not  communicate  to  each  other 
what  they  are  doing,  or  what  messages  they  are  leav- 
ing along  the  line.  34  They  always  go  to  headquarters 
for  information.  Of  the  nerve-cables  which  pass  out 
from  the  spinal  cord,  those  S5  passing  out  from  the 
front  of  it  are  made  up  of  nerves  of  motion,  while 
those  from  the  back  part  of  the  cord  are  nerves  3'5  of 
sensation.  In  thinking  this  over  you  may  have  some 
trouble  in  remembering  whether  the  nerves  of  motion, 
or  those  of  sensation,  come  from  the  front  or  anterior 
part  of  the  cord,  and  this  may  help  you  to  remember 
it.  When  we  make  motions  we  like  to  see  what  we 
are  doing;  so  we  will  remember  that  the  motor  nerves 
pass  out  from  the  front  of  the  cord.  We  can  feel 
without  seeing,  and  that  will  help  us  to  remember 
that  the  sensory  nerves  pass  out  from  the  back  or  pos- 
terior part  of  the  cord. 

By  this  wonderful  Telegraph  every  part  of  our 
House  Beautiful  is  connected  with  the  central  office 
in  the  observatory  or  head.  The  commands  for  any 
great  changes  in  the  movements  of  our  feet,  or  legs, 
or  hands,  or  arms,  go  from  this  central  office. 

Do  some  of  you  open  your  eyes  at  this,  and  say 
that  you  never  before  knew  that  you  had  within  you 
a  more  wonderful  telegraph  system  than  any  which 
man  has  devised  ?  But  you  have  it ;  and  what  is  even 
more  wonderful,  you  go  along  through  life  without 
thinking  about  it,  or  even  without  knowing  it,  and 
send  and  receive  dispatches  without  making  a  mistake 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

A   WONDERFUL    PHONOGRAPH. 

DID  you  ever  see  a  phonograph?  It  is  a  wonder- 
ful little  invention.  !  A  sheet  of  tinfoil  is  wrapped 
around  a  cylinder  which  is  made  to  revolve.  This 
cylinder  is  enclosed  in  a  box,  and  the  waves  of  air, 
produced  by  the  human  voice,  directed  through  an 
opening  in  this  box,  cause  a  metal  point  to  vibrate, 
and  trace  a  waving  line  upon  the  tinfoil.  If  the 
tracer  be  returned  to  the  point  of  starting,  and  the 
cylinder  made  again  to  revolve,  the  tracer  will  follow 
the  track  it  first  made,  and  you  will  hear  repeated 
the  song  you  sang,  or  the  words  you  spoke,  no  mat- 
ter how  long  since  they  were  sung  or  spoken.  You 
may  think  that  I  will  have  to  try  very  hard  to  find 
anything  like  that  in  the  beautiful  house  which  we 
call  our  body.  a  It  will  not  be  just  like  it,  to  be  sure, 
but  it  will  be  very  much  more  wonderful.  It  is 
something  which  repeats,  not  what  we  have  told  it 
3  but  that  which  the  Great  Architect  has  written  in- 
delibly upon  it.  We  found  the  system  of  nerves 
which  start  from  the  brain  and  spinal  cord,  and  which 
we  call  the  cerebro-spinal  system,  to  be  of  great  in- 
terest. We  saw  that  they  formed  a  system  of  com- 
munication from  the  brain  to  all  parts  of  the  body 
and  that  the  brain,  and  the  bunches  of  nerve-cells 

(I2Q) 


[  30  THE  HO  USE  BE  A  UTIFUL. 

called  ganglia,  were  the  centres  which  governed  and 
directed  the  sending  and  receiving  of  messages.  We 
will  now  study  a  system  of  nerves  which  do  not  re- 
ceive their  orders  from  those  general  offices,  the 
brain  and  cord,  but  find  their  orders  written  in  their 
very  substance. 

*  This  is  the  sympathetic  nervous  system,  and  was 
so  called  because  it  was  supposed  to  bind  together 
all  the  various  parts  of  the  body  into  a  whole,  each 
part  sympathizing  with  every  other. 

The  sensory  nerves  of  the  cerebro-^Dinal  system 
start  out  from  the  back  part  of  6  the  spinal  cord,  and 
on  these  nerves  we  find  little  bunches  of  nerve-cells 
which  we  have  already  learned  to  call  ganglia. 
*  These  ganglia  are  the  beginning  of  one  division  of 
the  sympathetic  nervous  system  which  we  have  lik- 
ened to  a  phonograph. 

7  The  other  division  of  this  system  begins  in  the 
head,  also  in  ganglia  which  are  lodged  on  branches 
of  the  cerebro-spinal  system.  fl  There  are  twenty- 
eight  or  thirty  of  these  ganglia,  and  they  9  pass  in  a 
double  row  down  in  front  of  the  spine  to  its  lower 
end.  I0  You  see  that  the  two  nervous  systems  are 
thus  very  closely  connected  in  the  beginning,  and 
they  are  still  more  intimately  united  by  threads,  or 
fibres  which  pass  back  and  forth  between  them. 

11  In  every  part  of  the  body  we  find  the  ganglia  of 
the  sympathetic  system,  and  12  its  fibres  make  a  sort 
of  interlacing  network  through  every  internal  organ. 
They  are  in  the  13  mucous  membrane,  the  coats  of 
the  blood-vessels,  in  all  involuntary  muscles  such  as 


IN  VOL  ON  TAR  Y  MO  VEMEN  T$.  \^\ 

the  stomach,  intestines,  and  heart,  and  even  in  the 
skin. 

14  In  some  places  a  great  many  fibres  from  differ- 
ent  ganglia  mingle  together,  forming  a  fine  close 
network  which  is  called  a  plexus.  You  will  see  that 
this  makes  a  very  close  connection  between  the 
nerves,  from  which  all  these  different  fibres  come, 
and  enables  us  to  understand  how  trouble  in  one  part 
of  the  body  may  make  pain  in  a  part  quite  distant. 

We  have  now  learned  the  anatomy  of  these  nerves. 
That  is,  we  have  learned  their  construction.  We 
will  next  learn  their  physiology,  that  is,  their  work- 
ing. The  cerebro-spinal  system  receives  messages 
from,  and  carries  messages  to,  15the  brain  ;  as  in  a 
telegraph  system,  messages  are  received  at  the  gen- 
eral office.  16  But  this  sympathetic  system,  although 
conveying  orders,  does  not  receive  them  from  the 
brain,  but  from  the  Great  Architect  himself. 

In  other  words,  the  orders  which  it  carries  do  not 
come  from  the  brain,  and  are  not  under  the  con- 
trol of  the  will.  There  are  many  things 17  going  on 
all  the  time  in  the  body  which  are  not  under  our 
control,  and  all  of  these  are  governed  by  the  sym- 
pathetic nervous  system.  18  We  breathe  night  and 
day,  whether  we  think  of  it  or  not.  This  action  of 
the  lungs,  taking  in  the  air,  and  sending  it  out 
again,  is  according  to  the  law  which  is  written  on 
the  substance  of  each  little  ganglion  of  the  sympa- 
thetic nervous  system,  just  as  the  tracings  are 
made  on  the  tinfoil  of  the  phonograph. 

19  We  can  indeed  govern  to  a  certain  extent  the 
action  of  the  lungs.  We  can  make  ourselves  breathe 


132 


THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 


fast  or  slow,  while  we  are  thinking  about  it ;  we  can 
even  refuse  to  breathe  at  all  for  a  time.  This  we  do 
through  those  fibres  which  pass  from  the  brain  and 
cord  to  the  ganglia  of  the  sympathetic.  But  we  have 
only  a  very  limited  control  of  our  breathing.  As 
soon  as  we  think  of  something  else  our  lungs  pass 
wholly  under  the  control  of  the  sympathetic  system, 
and  we  breathe  without  thinking  that  we  are  breath- 
ing. And  what  a  wise  arrangement  it  is.  For  if  we 
had  to  think  of  it  all  the  time  we  should  not  be  able 
to  do  anything  else,  not  even  to  eat,  or  talk,  or  play. 
Up  to  20  a  certain  point,  swallowing  is  under  the  con- 
trol of  the  brain,  but  after  the  food  has  entered  the 
oesophagus  it  is  then  no  longer  subject  ai  to  the  com- 
mands of  the  brain,  but  to  the  sympathetic  nerves, 
and  does  itself,  or,  as  we  say,  becomes  involuntary. 

It  is  well  to  remember  this  fact,  and  to  put  nothing 
into  the  mouth  which  it  would  be  dangerous  or  hurt- 
ful to  swallow. 

98  Digestion  is  a  process  that  is  wholly  involuntary. 
As  soon  as  food  enters  the  stomach,  the  nerves  of  the 
"  sympathetic  system  begin  to  trace  the  orders  that 
have  been  divinely  impressed  upon  them,  and  com- 
mand the  secretion  of  gastric  juice,  and  the  churning 
of  the  food  by  the  stomach.  When  it  is  digested, 
they  feel  the  impression  that  it  must  be  passed  along 
into  the  duodenum ;  a4  and  here  the  order  is  given 
that  pancreatic  juice  must  be  furnished;  that  bile 
must  be  squeezed  out  of  the  gall-bladder  into  the 
gall-duct,  and  sent  where  it  is  needed.  "  In  this  way 
the  food  is  passed  along  into  the  small  intestines, 
taken  up  by  the  villi, 26  transferred  through  mesenteric 


THE  KIDNE  Y  A  SSIS  TS.  j  3  ^ 

glands  to  v  the  thoracic  duct,  and  then  emptied  into 
18  the  jugular  vein  at  the  29  left  side  of  the  neck.  This 
routine  is  repeated  everyday;  and  every-time  food 
is  taken  into  the  stomach  the  tracer  is  moved  back 
to  the  starting-point  and  repeats  the  divine  orders. 
In  this  process  of  digestion  all  of  the  contents  of  the 
intestines  are  not  absorbed.  30  Some  of  them  are  not 
nourishing,  and  are  passed  down  into  the  scavenger- 
box,  which  is  the  large  intestine  or  colon.  Through 
this  same  system  an  order  is  sent  to  a  couple  of 
strainers  called  3l  the  kidneys,  which  are  located  in 
front  of  the  small  of  the  back,  and  in  obedience  to 
this  order  they  separate  from  the  blood  32  the  watery 
portion,  which  has  become  waste  matter,  and  send  it 
out  into  a  store-room  called  the  bladder,  where  it 
stays  until  a  command  comes  from  the  brain  for  its 
removal.  The  more  solid  contents  of  the  colon,  which 
are  to  be  cast  out  as  waste,  pass  down  into  a  portion 
of  the  bowel  called  the  rectum,  and  are  expelled  from 
the  body.  You  may  well  imagine  that  this  casting 
out  of  waste  material  is  an  important  part  of  physical 
housekeeping.  No  good  housewife  allows  waste  to 
accumulate  about  the  house.  In  the  emptying  the 
waste  pipes  of  our  bodily  dwelling,  we  find  the  closest 
connection  between  the  two  nervous  systems.  Until 
the  moment  that  this  material  is  ready  to  be  thrown 
out  of  the  body,  the  sympathetic  system  has  worked 
without  consulting  the  brain.  But  now  word  is  sent 
from  that  general  office  that  the  doors  shall  be  opened 
and  the  waste  expelled.  This  order  is  a  very  import- 
ant one,  and  should  at  once  be  heeded,  if  we  wish  to 
preserve  a  clean,  healthful  dwelling. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 
THE    BURGLAR    ALARM. 

MAN'S  inventive  genius  has  devised  a  delicate  elec- 
trical instrument,  which  he,  no  doubt,  has  believed  to 
be  something  entirely  new.  It  is  called  a  Burglar 
Alarm.  It  consists  of  an  electrical  battery  connected 
by  wires  to  every  door  and  window  of  a  dwelling.  As 
soon  as  the  last  door  is  closed  the  current  of  electric- 
ity is  established,  and  everything  is  supposed  to  be 
safe.  If  a  door  or  window  is  opened  the  current  is 
broken  and  a  bell  sounds  the  alarm,  telling  in  what 
part  of  the  house  an  entrance  is  being  attempted. 
Of  course  the  man  who  lives  in  the  house  lies  awake 
to  see  if  his  alarm  works  right,  for  he  would  not  want 
to  spend  so  much  money  and  then  have  a  failure. 

If  he  hears  the  alarm  he  is  at  once  greatly  fright- 
ened, for,  as  this  machine  is  a  Burglar  Alarm,  the  ring- 
ing of  the  bell  implies  that  a  burglar  is  at  hand,  and 
at  once  the  man  jumps  out  of  bed  and  into  a  few  of 
his  garments,  and  then  into  a  closet  and  shuts  the 
door.  He  knows  that  burglars  always  want  the 
most  valuable  thing  in  the  house,  and,  without  doubt 
that  is  himself.  His  timid  little  wife,  who  knows  that 
she  is  of  no  account,  and  therefore  in  no  danger  from 
burglars  goes  down-stairs  to  see  what  is  the  matter, 
and  finds  that  the  burglar  is  Bridget,  who  had  the 
d34) 


NER  VES  OF  SENSA  TfOAT.  1 3  5 

toothache,  and  was  going  to  the  kitchen  for  her  drops, 
When,  a  few  nights  after,  the  real  burglar  does  come, 
he  opens  neither  window  nor  door,  but  cuts  out  a 
large  pane  of  glass  and  thus  effects  an  entrance,  and 
neither  the  alarm  nor  its  owner  know  anything  of  his 
presence. 

No  such  good-for-nothing  '  Burglar  Alarm  has  been 
put  into  our  House  Beautiful,  but  one  so  perfect  in 
the  certainty  of  its  workings  was  put  into  the  first 
house,  that  the  same  kind  has  been  put  into  each  suc- 
ceeding one.  2  You  have  already  learned  that  bat- 
teries are  placed  in  the  Observatory,  3  and  in  the  Tel- 
egraph you  studied  the  general  construction  and  dis- 
tribution of  wires.  4  Some  of  these  same  batteries 
and  wires  are  used  in  the  Burglar  Alarm,  6  and  the 
connection  with  every  part  of  the  house  is  so  minute, 
that  you  can  not  put  the  point  of  the  smallest  needle 
upon  the  skin,  without  the  owner's  being  aware  of  it 
and  warning  you  to  stop.  8  The  nerves,  which  act  as 
the  wires,  start  out  from  the  posterior  part  of  the  spi- 
nal cord,  and  are  known  as  nerves  of  sensation,  and 
when  they  are  irritated,  or  injured,  we  feel  pain,  and 
this  is  the  alarm. 

7  Pain  is  our  very  good  guardian  and  friend,  who  is 
ever  on  the  alert  to  warn  us  when  danger  threatens 
our  house.  "  We  do  not  like  his  warnings,  but,  never- 
theless, we  should  always  heed  them,  for  he  never 
speaks  without  a  good  reason. 

9  The  nerves  of  sensation  end  in  the  skin  in  tiny 
bulbs  called  tactile  corpuscles.  10  These  are  found  in 
greatest  numbers  in  the  palms  of  the  hands,  on  the 


136  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

palmar  surface  of  the  fingers,  and  on  the  soles  of  the 
feet.  "  If  we  look  at  the  ends  of  our  fingers  we  can 
see  little  rows,  or  lines,  which  are  the  papillae  of  the 
skin,  and  it  is  in  these  papillae  that  the  nerves  of 
sensation  end.  lf  The  tactile  corpuscles  do  not  exist 
in  all  of  the  papillae,  and  they  are  in  greater  propor- 
tion in  some  parts  than  in  others.  13  On  the  ends  of 
the  fingers  there  are  about  four  hundred  papillae  and 
one  hundred  tactile  corpuscles,  14  while  on  the  second 
joint  of  the  finger  there  are  only  forty  corpuscles,  to 
the  square  inch.  In  the  skin  of  the  forearm — 15  that 
is,  the  arm  between  the  wrist  and  elbow — 16  these  cor- 
puscles  are  rare.  This  shows  why  some  parts  of  the 
body  are  more  sensitive  than  others.  Pain  is  not 
the  only  sensation  we  have.  18  We  can  tell  whethef 
things  are  warm  or  cool  as  well  as  whether  they  burn 
or  freeze.  We  can  judge  of  the  shape  of  things,  and 
of  their  surface,  whether  they  are  rough  or  smoot'h. 
We  can  feel  pleasure  in  the  touch  of  velvet,  as  well  as 
pain  from  the  touch  of  a  very  rough  surface. 

19  The  sense  of  touch  has  been  so  highly  cultivated 
in  deaf  people,  that  they  experience  pleasure  from  the 
music  at  a  concert  by  placing  their  finger-tips  upon 
the  backs  of  the  benches. 

Thus  our  Burglar  Alarm,  like  other  senses,  at  one 
time  gives  us  protection,  and  at  another  gives  us 
pleasure. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

THE    SIXTH    SPECIAL    SENSE. 

1  You  have  doubtless  been  told  that  you  have  five 
senses,  and  perhaps  you  will  be  surprised  when  I  tell 
you  that  you  have  a  sixth  sense.  s  You  can  tell  me— 
even  if  your  eyes  are  shut — whether  you  are  sitting 
or  standing ;  whether  your  feet  are  crossed  or  not ; 
whether  the  palms  of  your  hands  are  turned  toward 
the  earth  or  sky. 

How  was  the  knowledge  of  the  position  of  the 
muscles  communicated  to  the  brain  ? 

4  When  you  are  told  to  bring  in  a  pail  of  water, 
you  do  not  stop  to  think  how  much  effort  you  must 
put  forth,  to  lift  it.  You  really  take  no  thought,  but 
you  take  hold  of  the  pail.  5  You  do  not  have  to  try 
twice  before  you  succeed  in  lifting  it,  nor  does  it  fly 
into  the  air  because  you  applied  too  much  force  ;  but 
you  put  forth  just  the  right  amount  of  strength  to 
lift  it  easily. 

8  It  is  this  sixth  sense  which  knows  for  you  how 
much  force  to  use  ;  whether  an  object  is  fixed,  or  mov- 
able, and  also  the  position  of  your  muscles.  7  This 
we  call  Muscular  Sense.  e  By  Muscular  Sense  you 
learn  the  weight  of  different  substances.  *  So  acute 
-iocs  this  sense  become  by  cultivation,  that  a  differ- 

(i37) 


THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

ence  of  one-sixteenth  in  the  weight  of  two  articles  — 
as  two  pieces  of  coin — can  be  detected. 

Step  into  a  bank  some  day  and  watch  the  teller 
counting  gold  pieces.  See  how  rapidly  he  counts, 
and  yet  the  instant  he  touches  a  coin  that  lacks  the 
required  weight,  his  muscular  sense  detects  it,  and 
it  is  thrown  out  with  unerring  certainty. 

10  Through  muscular  sense  we  have  a  knowledge  of 
what  we  are  walking  upon — whether  the  grass,  the 
stone  pavement,  a  board  walk,  or  an  ash-heap. 

Sometimes  we  appreciate  our  powers  better  after 
we  have  lost  them.  n  It  may  seem  strange,  but  it  is 
true,  that  if  a  person  has  lost  this  muscular  sense,  in 
his  back  and  legs,  he  can  not  walk  across  a  room  with 
his  eyes  shut,  without  staggering  like  a  drunken  man. 
'•  If,  with  his  eyes  closed,  he  attempts  to  stand  erect, 
he  will  fall  over.  This  shows  you  how  one  sense 
assists  another.  l3  The  eyes,  in  a  measure,  take  the 
place  of  this  lost  sense. 

14  A  person  who  has  lost  Muscular  Sense  needs  to 
pay  very  close  attention  to  everything  which  he 
undertakes  to  do.  16A  mother  thus  affected  could 
hold  her  child  in  her  arms  so  long  as  she  thought  of 
holding  it ;  but  as  soon  as  any  one  began  talking  to 
her,  and  directed  her  thoughts  away  from  the  baby, 
her  arms  relaxed  and  the  child  began  to  fall.  You 
can  see  that  muscular  sense  is  very  important,  if 
without  it  you  can  not  hold  a  child  safely  in  your 
arms,  or  walk  steadily  across  the  floor.  16  My  neighbor, 
who  has  been  blind  some  eighteen  years,  is,  with  his 
two  brothers,  a  dealer  in  live  stock,  sheep,  horses,  and 


TRUE  COURAGE. 

cattle.  He  feels  of  the  sheep,  and  judges  of  the 
quality  of  the  wool ;  he  lifts  them,  and  judges  of  their 
weight,  and  decides  on  their  value.  He  feels  the 
horses  all  over,  judges  of  their  size,  form,  condition, 
and  speed,  and  describes  them  better  than  his  part- 
ners who  have  eyes,  seldom  making  a  mistake  even 
in  the  color  of  the  animal.  His  is  the  best  judgment 
of  the  three,  and  his  brothers  always  acquiesce  in  his 
decisions. 

17  Muscular  sense  is  always  well  developed  in  those 
persons  who  perform  feats  of  physical  strength. 
Recently  in  one  of  the  great  fires  in  New  York  city, 
near  the  post-office,  a  young  woman  was  seen  to 
come  to  one  of  the  front  windows  in  the  third  story. 
She  stepped  into  the  window  and  stood  erect  upon 
the  sill.  In  a  few  moments  the  smoke  came  pouring 
out  of  the  same  window,  and  flames  were  surround- 
ing her.  She  must  move.  She  could  not  retreat. 
She  saw  that  the  next  window  was  not  on  fire,  and 
if  she  could  reach  it,  she  had  one  more  chance  of 
rescue.  She  spread  out  her  arms  upon  the  perpen- 
dicular wall,  passed  along  a  projection  not  three 
inches  wide  and  reached  the  window.  No  human 
being  could  have  done  this  without  so  great  an  emer- 
gency, to  stimulate  muscular  sense  to  its  utmost 
capacity. 

The  crowd  below  gazed  in  amazement.  Here 
again  she  stood  upright  upon  the  window-sill,  from 
which  she  would  have  fallen  in  a  moment  under  any 
other  circumstances.  The  firemen  tried  to  make  her 
understand  that  they  would  take  her  down  with  a 


140  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

ladder,  if  she  had  courage.  She  nodded  that  she  un- 
derstood, although  their  voices  could  not  be  heard 
While  they  were  bringing  the  ladders,  another  young 
girl  jumped  from  another  window,  with  the  expecta- 
tion of  alighting  upon  a  canvas  held  by  a  number  of 
men  below.  In  her  descent  she  struck  a  telegraph 
wire,  which  turned  her  over  and  over,  and  she  was 
killed  in  the  fall.  The  girl  stood  in  the  window  un- 
moved. The  fire  now  appeared  behind  her.  The 
ladders  came,  but  were  too  short.  A  fireman  ran  to 
the  top  of  the  ladder,  and,  standing  upon  the  topmost 
round,  could  only  reach  high  enough  to  take  her  by 
the  ankles.  "  Can  you  be  perfectly  cool  ?  "  he  cried 
to  her,  "  and  make  yourself  as  stiff  as  a  piece  of 
iron?"  "Yes,"  she  said.  "Then  I  will  lift  you 
down,"  he  replied.  He  took  her  two  ankles  in  his 
two  hands,  and  lifted  her  up,  she  being  perfectly  erect, 
and  stepped  down  from  one  round  to  another,  until 
he  placed  her  feet  upon  the  ladder ;  and  then  taking 
her  in  his  arms  brought  her  safely  to  the  ground  amid 
the  tears  and  embraces  and  shouts  of  the  assembled 
multitude.  Neither  of  these  two  ever  before  knew 
how  great  were  the  powers  of  their  Muscular  Sense. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

THE   ORGAN. 

IF  you  were  asked  to  name  the  !  finest  musical  in- 
strument you  have  ever  heard,  what  would  it  be  ? 
Some  of  you  would  think  of  the  violin,  some  of  the 
flute,  and  others  of  the  piano.  But  what  if  you  should 
be  called  upon  to  tell  why  it  was  the  finest  instrument, 
and  to  describe  how  it  is  made,  what  then  ?  You 
might  not  be  able  to  describe  it,  and  probably 
you  would  only  be  able  to  say  that  it  is  best,  be- 
cause you  like  it  best.  I  can  tell  you  of  an  instru- 
ment, which  I  think  the  finest  of  all  instruments,  and 
I  will  try  to  describe  it  to  you,  and  tell  you  why  it 
is  the  most  wonderful  of  all  instruments. 

2  Please  put  your  finger  on  your  throat,  and  you  will 
feel  a  little  protuberance  called  Adam's  apple.  I 
guess  when  Adam  was  called  upon  to  tell  why  he  ate 
the  apple,  he  was  in  such  a  hurry  to  say  that  Eve  was 
to  blame,  that  he  attempted  to  swallow  a  quarter  of 
the  apple  whole,  and  it  stuck  in  his  throat.  At  any 
rate,  there  it  is  in  the  throats  of  all  of  Adam's  sons 
and  daughters.  It  is  larger  in  the  throats  of  men 
than  of  women.  It  is  called  the  larynx.  *  It  is  a  firm 
sort  of  a  box,  situated  just  at  the  top  of  the  trachea 
or  windpipe  ;  it  is  a  box  with  sides,  but  without  a  top 
or  a  bottom.  4  It  has  a  lid  which  can  close  it  at  the 

10 


1 42 


THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 


top,  but  it  usually  stands  open.  This  lid  is  called  the 
f pi-glottis.  It  is  6  open  to  admit  air,  which  must  pass 
through  the  larynx  and  trachea  into  the  lungs,  *  and 
it  closes  when  food  passes  across  the  top  of  the  larynx, 
on  its  way  to  the  oesophagus  and  to  the  stomach. 

7  Near  the  top  of  the  larynx  two  bands  or  chords  of 
fibrous  tissue  stretch  across  it  from  front  to  back.  "  They 
lie  parallel  with  each  other,  leaving  a  little  crack  be- 
tween them.  There  would  be  a  space  between  them 

and  the  walls  of  the 
..••*  larynx,   but    it    is 

closed  by  a  mem- 
brane and  by  mus- 
cles. 

"  If  you  will  put 
the  tips  of  your 
thumb  and  fore- 
finger together  in 
each  hand,  and  then 
put  your  hands  side 
by  side  so  that  the  thumbs  lie  parallel,  but  not  quite 
touching,  you  will  have  a  very  good  representa- 
tion of  the  larynx,  10  your  thumbs  being  the  vocal 
chords ;  only  you  want  to  fill  up  the  spaces  between 
your  thumbs  and  your  fingers,  so  that  the  air  can  only 
come  between  your  thumbs.  "  This  opening  is  called 
the  opening  of  the  glottis,  and  the  space  below  is  the 
glottis.  ia  When  we  breathe,  the  glottis  gets  larger 
as  the  air  comes  in,  and  smaller  as  it  goes  out. 

How  is  this  done?  At  the  back  of  the  larynx  the 
chords  are  attached  to  two  small  pieces  of  cartilage 


THB  ORGAN. 


VARIA  TIONS  OF  TONE. 


'43 


shaped  like  a  triangle,  the  bases  of  which  are  fast  to 
the  larynx  and  can  be  rotated,  so  that  their  opposite 
angles  can  be  more  widely  separated  from  each  other 
and  thus  the  chords  are  drawn  apart. 

Now,  if  your  thumbs  were  thin,  delicate  ribbons — 
remembering  always  that  the  space  between  thumb 
and  finger  is  filled  in  with  muscle — as  the  air  passed 
through  between  these  they  would  be  moved  back 
and  forth.  13  That  is  called  vibrating,  and  this  vibrat- 
ing, M  if  sufficiently  rapid,  would  make  a  sound  which 
we  call  a  tone. 

You  have  often  stretched  a  string  across  a  window, 
and  listened  to  the  music  which  the  wind  made  by 
blowing  over  it  and  vibrating  it.  You  found  that 
the  tone  varied  with  the  length  of  string,  I6  a  short 
string  making  a  high  tone,  a  long  string  a  low  tone. 
The  tone  also  varies  with  the  tension  and  size  of  the 
string.  In  the  piano,  strings  of  different  sizes  and 
lengths  are  used  to  make  the  different  tones.  16  If  our 
larynx  is  to  be  a  musical  instrument,  it  must  be  able 
to  make  tones  of  different  pitch,  or  it  will  be  of  little 
account.  But  we  have  only  two  strings  to  use  ;  how 
can  we  vary  them  in  length  and  size  ? 

17  There  are  nine  little  muscles,  so  arranged  that 
they  can  draw  the  chords  nearer  together  or  farther 
apart,  and  at  the  same  time  tighten  or  loosen  them ; 
the  tighter  they  are  drawn,  the  higher  the  tone,  as  you 
found  in  your  ^Eolian  harp. 

18  In  sounding  a  low  tone  the  glottis  is  left  quite 
open,  and  the  vocal  chords  are  loose.    The  nearer  the 
chords  are  brought  together,  the  narrower  the  glottis  ; 


144  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL, 

and  the  tighter  the  chords,  the  higher  will  be  the 
tone. 

19  In  a  flute  a  column  of  air  is  made  to  vibrate, 
10  and  the  pitch  of  the  note  varies  with  the  size  of  the 
opening,  and  with  the  length  of  the  vibrating  column 
of  air,  within  the  flute. 

21  The  human  voice  is  made  by  forcing  air  through 
the  opening  between  the  chords. 

2a  We  find  that  in  low  sounds  the  column  of  air  is 
shortened  by  the  lowering  of  the  larynx,  and  in  high 
sounds  it  is  lengthened  by  the  raising  of  the  larynx. 

23  If  you  could  draw  out  one  of  the  reeds  of  your 
melodeon,  or  parlor  organ,  you  would  find  it  to  be  a 
piece  of  brass,  with  a  brass  tongue  which  vibrates 
with  the  movement  of  the  air.  The  smaller  the 
tongue,  the  more  rapid  the  vibrations  and  the  higher 
the  tone.  So  with  the  24  vocal  chords,  the  shorter  and 
thinner  they  are,  the  higher  the  pitch  ;  the  muscles 
draw  them  together  and  stretch  them  tightly,  and  the 
15  air,  coming  from  the  lungs  and  passing  through  the 
glottis,  makes  them  vibrate,  and  they,  in  turn,  cause  the 
column  of  air  in  the  trachea  to  vibrate. 

The  piano  and  violin  have  each  a  26  sounding-board, 
which  helps  to  develop  the  volume,  and  the  quality  of 
tone. 

There  is  in  the  frontal  bone,  above  the  eyes,  a  cavity 
filled  with  air,  that  communicates  with  the  nasal  pas- 
sages, and  which,  together  with  the  throat  and  mouth, 
forms  a  sounding-board  and  gives  resonance  to  the 
voice. 

In  a  church  organ  we  have  a  boy  to  blow  the  bel- 


THE  RANGE  OF  THE   VOICE.  145 

lows  arid  pump  in  the  air.  27  The  bellows  of  the 
voice  are  the  lungs,  and  the  boy  who  pumps,  is  a 
98  combination  of  muscles,  located,  not  only  around  the 
lungs,  but  also  in  the  abdomen.  Many  people  never 
learn  to  use  the  abdominal  muscles  in  breathing,  and 
therefore  they  never  have  the  most  complete  control 
of  their  vocal  organ. 

We  all  know  that  there  is  a  difference  in  the  M  quality 
and  pitch  of  different  voices.  80  Sometimes  the  tra- 
chea is  short  and  wide,  and  then  the  vocal  chords  will 
be  long,  and  their  vibrations  will  be  slow,  and  that  will 
produce  the  low  tones  of  a  bass  voice. 

If  the  trachea  is  longer  and  narrower,  the  chords 
will  be  shorter,  and  will  3:  vibrate  more  rapidly,  and 
this  will  give  the  quality  and  compass  of  a  baritone, 
or  tenor  voice.  3a  If  now  the  chords  are  smaller  in 
size  we  will  have  a  contralto  voice,  and  if  still  smaller, 
a  soprano  voice.  Sa  Thus  you  see  that  our  very  sim- 
ple instrument  of  two  strings  has  developed  wonder- 
ful capabilities  in  the  production  of  a  great  variety  of 
sounds.  8*  The  range  of  the  human  voice  is  about 
four  octaves,  that  is,  from  the  lowest  bass  tone  to  the 
highest  soprano  tone.  35  The  average  range  of  a  sin- 
gle voice  is  about  two  and  a  half  octaves.  Madame 
Parepa  Rosa,  as  well  as  Patti,  had  a  compass  of  three 
octaves.  The  ability  to  sing  high  or  low  is  not  the 
only  difference  in  voices,  36  for  even  in  making  tones 
at  the  same  pitch,  there  is  often  a  marked  difference 
in  quality.  This  is  called  the  timbre  of  the  voice. 
87  It  depends  upon  the  formation  of  the  chords  and 
t~he  larynx,  and  not  less  upon  the  knowledge  of  how 


r46  THK  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

to  use  the  abdominal  muscles,  and  how  to  place  the 
chords  in  order  to  make  the  required  tone.  One  may 
have  a  very  good  organ  and  not  know  how  to  use  it, 
or  else  use  it  in  a  wrong  way  and  so  not  develop  it  to 
the  best  advantage.  3rt  A  good  teacher  can  change  the 
timbre  of  a  voice,  by  teaching  the  owner  how  to  use 
the  muscles  by  which  it  should  be  worked.  3fl  The 
strength  of  the  voice  depends  partly  upon  the  degree 
of  vibration  of  the  chords,  and  partly  upon  the  re- 
sounding qualities  of  those  parts  which  act  as  a 
sounding-board. 

Are  you  able  to  see  why  this  organ  is  the  most 
wonderful  of  all  musical  instruments?  40  It  is  like  a 
violin,  because  it  has  strings  which  are  made  to  vibrate, 
sometimes  producing  a  higher  or  lower  note,  and  in 
both  voice  and  violin  the  long  string  makes  the  low 
tone,  and  the  same  string  tightened  a  higher  tone. 

41  It  is  like  a  piano,  because  it  has  strings  vibrating 
in  connection  with  a  sounding-board. 

42  It  is  like  the  flute,  because  it  has  a  column  of  air 
in  a  tube,  which,  put  into  vibration,  causes  a  tone. 
43  It  is  even  more  like  an  organ,  for  there  we  have  a 
column  of  air  put  into  motion  by  a  vibrating  body. 
In  the  church  organ  each  tone  is  produced  in  a  differ- 
ent pipe,  each  pipe  producing  but  a  single  tone.    But 
the   pipe   in   our  organ — the  trachea — can   be   made 
longer  or  shorter,  or  larger  or  smaller,  as  is  needed. 
It  is  really  wonderful  how  many  different  tones  can 
be  produced  by  this  simple  little  instrument.     The 
manner  of  producing  the  tones  is  not  more  wonderful 
than  is  the  beauty  of  the  tones  produced.     Neither 


THE  PERFECT  HUMAN  VOICE.  \^>j 

flute,  violin,  or  organ  can  make  such  fascinating 
sounds  as  the  perfectly  attuned  and  properly  edu- 
cated human  voice. 

The  most  perfect  human  voice  can  be  heard  dis- 
tinctly above  thousands  of  other  voices  singing  at  the 
same  time,  because  the  multitude  of  voices  will  not 
be  so  perfectly  accurate.  This  was  demonstrated  by 
Mme.  Parepa  Rosa  at  the  Boston  Jubilee,  where  the 
precision  and  mathematical  accuracy  of  her  tones,  en- 
abled them  to  be  heard  in  the  midst  of  more  than  a 
thousand  singers,  and  nearly  as  many  instruments. 

It  must  have  been  after  attending  such  a  glorious 
and  almost  divinely  inspiring  Symposium,  that  Raphael 
conceived  and  painted  that  masterpiece  of  art,  where 
St.  Cecilia  is  represented  as  singing,  with  her  beautiful 
face  turned  heavenward,  while  kneeling  men  and 
hushed  angelic  choirs,  forget  the  loveliness  of  her  face, 
in-  listening  to  the  ravishing  tones  of  her  human  voice, 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

THE    AUDITORIUM. 

THE  visitor,  in  entering  one  of  our  finest  houses, 
passes  through  a  porch,  or  vestibule,  into  a  hall,  and 
is  then  shown  into  a  reception-room,  where  he  waits 
until  his  name  is  taken  to  the  gentleman  of  the  house. 
This  room  might  properly  be  called  the  auditorium, 
because  in  this  room  are  heard  all  desires  and  re- 
quests. As  a  rule,  such  rooms  are  furnished  with  a 
few  easy-chairs,  a  lounge,  a  magazine,  and  a  few  pa- 
pers with  which  to  while  away  the  time  of  waiting. 

In  this  house,  not  made  with  hands,  which  we  in- 
habit, we  can  find  two  rooms  which  correspond  to 
this  auditorium.  They  are  so  connected  with  each 
other,  and  that,  too,  without  an  opening  between 
them,  that  whatever  happens  in  the  one  is  at  once 
known  in  the  other. 

Looking  upon  the  sides  of  the  Observatory  we  can 
see  the  porches  which  protect  the  entrances  to  our 
double  auditorium.  They  are  very  pretty  little  por- 
ticoes, of  a  peculiar  semi-circular  shape,  a  pearly  pink 
in  color,  and  are  ornamented  with  carvings  or  mould- 
ings, strange  hollows,  and  ridges,  which  surround  a 
deeper  part,  in  the  centre  of  which  is  the  entrance. 

1  This  portico  is  called  the  pinna,  or  external  ear. 
This  indicates  that  there  is  an  internal  ear.  8  The 
(148) 


THE  MIDDLE  EAR.  r 49 

pinna  is  attached  to  the  observatory  by  ligaments, 
3  and  each  has  three  servants,  or  muscles,  but  they 
do  little  work.  One  is  called  4 "  the  servant  who  raises 
the  ear";  another,  "the  servant  who  pulls  the  ear 
back";  but  you  can  tell,  by  trying,  that  they  are  of 
6  very  little  account  in  moving  the  ears  in  any  direc- 
tion. I  have  seen  people  who  had  these  servants  so 


STRUCTURE  OF  THE  EAR. 

i.  Auditory  canal,     a.  Drum  of  ear.    3.  Hammer.     4.  Anvil.     5.  Stirrup,    6.  Mm 
die  ear.    7.  Vestibule.     14.  Eustachian  tube. 

well  trained,  that  they  would  move  the  ears  as  they 
were  ordered. 

In  the  centre  of  6the  pinna  is  a  round  doorway, 
without  a  door  to  close  it.  There  are, 7  however,  some 
guards  stationed  there  to  keep  out  intruders.  This 
8  doorway  leads  into  a  hall,  or  passage,  which  is  very 
much  like  a  tunnel.  It  is  a  cylindrical  channel  lead- 


150  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

ing  into  a  bone,  which  is  so  extremely  hard  that  it  is 
called  8  the  petrous,  or  rocky  portion  of  the  tempo- 
ral bone. 

1$  This  bony  canal  is  called  the  auditory  canal,  and 
is  lined  inside  with  membranes,  like  tapestry,  so  that 
we  do  not  see  the  walls.  It  is  not  a  straight  canal, 
but  "  at  first  it  goes  up  a  little  in  order  to  get  ovei 
a  bony  prominence ;  then  it  goes  down  a  little,  and 
all  the  time  it  is  going  a  little  forward.  "  It  also 
gets  somewhat  smaller  as  we  proceed. 

We  soon  reach  the  inner  end,  for  ls  it  is  only  an 
inch  and  a  quarter  long,  and  here  we  H  find  our  way 
stopped  by  a  flesh-colored  curtain.  It  is  not  such  a 
portttre  as  fashionable  ladies  have  nowadays  in  their 
houses,  that  are  hung  on  rods,  with  rings  which  slip 
easily,  and  let  one  pass ;  but  it  closes  up  the  hall  just 
like  the  bottom  of  a  box.  There  is  no  way  to  get 
through  it.  16  It  will  not  move,  and  there  is  no  open- 
ing in  it.  We  are  stopped  here,  and  we  have  not 
reached  the  reception-room.  But  come  with  me,  and 
I  will  show  you  how  we  can  get  around  on  the  other 
side  of  that  curtain.  We  will  enter  18  the  round  doors 
under  the  portico  of  the  nose,  and  go  back  into  the 
pharynx,  which  is  the  upper  and  back  part  of  the 
throat.  If  we  then  look  up  a  little,  and  to  one  side, 
we  will  see  a  small  round  opening.  This  is  the  en- 
trance  to  another  passageway,  leading  to  the  audi- 
torium or  reception-room. 

This  18hall  is  about  as  long  as  the  one  leading  from 
the  pinna,  and  is  1T  called  the  eustachian  tube.  Here 
we  are  then,  behind  the  curtain,  and  |B  in  the  audito- 


A  HAMMER  AND  ANVIL  IN   THE  EAR.          \^\ 

n'um,  or  middle  ear,  which  is  an  irregular  cave  hoi- 
lowed  out  of  the  Msame  rocky  bone.  The  usual  vis- 
itors do  not  come  in  as  we  did.  Whoever  gets  in 
nere  must  pass  directly  through  the  substance  of  this 
curtain, 21  which  is  called  the  drum  of  the  ear,  because 
it  is  tightly  stretched  across  a  round  opening.  It  is 
not  stretched  straight  up  and  down,  but  22the  top 
leans  outward,  so  that  the  floor  of  the  canal  is  longer 
than  the  ceiling. 

The  auditorium,  where  we  now  are,  has  its  own  pe- 
culiar furniture.  There  are  no  easy-chairs,  or  books, 
or  pictures.  23  First  there  is  the  drum  we  have  been 
talking  about,  but  there  is  no  use  in  having  a  drum  if 
we  have  no  drum-sticks.  Well,  a  hammer  will  answer, 
will  it  not?  And  here  we  find  a  tiny  one  fastened, 
56  along  the  length  of  its  handle,  to  the  drum-head, 
from  the  top  to  the  centre.  The  head  of  the  hammer 
is  at  the  top,  and  so  close  that  it  can  touch  it,  we 
find — can  you  guess? — an  anvil.  84  So  you  see  that 
the  head  of  the  hammer  plays  on  the  anvil,  and  the 
handle  plays  on  the  drum-head.  Is  it  any  wonder 
that  boys  and  girls  are  so  fond  of  noise  when  they 
have  two  reception-rooms  apiece,  each  fitted  up  with 
drums,  hammers,  and  anvils?  You  might  as  well  give 
a  baby  a  rolling-pin  and  looking-glass  to  play  with, 
and  expect  nothing  to  be  broken,  as  to  furnish  a  child 
with  two  drums,  two  hammers,  and  two  anvils,  and 
expect  no  noise  to  be  made.  I  have  not  yet  told  you 
of  all  the  strange  furniture  that  we  find  in  the  audi- 
torium. "You  know  that  a  stirrup  is  a  part  of  a  sad- 
dle. One  of  the  strangest  places  I  ever  knew  of  for 


152  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

keeping  a  saddle  is  under  the  bed,  and  I  think  it  is 
about  as  odd  to  keep  a  stirrup  in  a  reception-room. 
One  in  each  auditorium  makes  a  pair,  doesn't  it?  I 
wonder  if  that  is  why  children  are  so  fond  of  riding 
that  they  will  even  ride  a  broomstick,  if  they  can 
have  no  other  steed  ? 

I  sometimes  have  a  good  laugh  when  I  think  of  all 
the  odd  things  which  I  find  to  tell  you  about  in  this 
beautiful  house  of  ours.  Now  you  can  not  guess  for 
what  this  stirrup  is  used.  You  have  sometimes  seen, 
no  doubt,  old  coats  or  hats  used  to  stuff  in  a  window 
where  part  of  the  glass  was  broken  out,  but  I  am  sure 
you  never  saw  a  stirrup  used  to  close  up  the  whole 
window  in  the  place  of  glass.  "  That  is  how  the  stir- 
rup in  this  auditorium  is  used.  The  base,  or  foot 
part  of  it,  fits  snugly  into  an  28  oval  window  called  the 
fcnestra  ovale. 

29  The  hammer,  the  anvil,  and  the  stirrup  are  tiny 
bones  which  are  so  30  arranged  as  to  touch  each  other. 
It  is  necessary  to  keep  the  31  drum  of  the  ear  in  tune 
like  a  musical  instrument,  and  this  is  dojie  by  22  three 
servants  or  muscles.  33  Two  of  them  are  attached  to 
the  hammer,  and  one  to  the  stirrup.  "  When  they 
act,  the  centre  of  the  drum-head  is  drawn  in  a  little  ; 
the  tiny  bones  are  firmly  pressed  against  each  other, 
and  the  stirrup  presses  against  the  membrane  in  the 
oval  window.  By  this  action,  the  tension  of  the  parts 
is  such  that  a  wave  of  air,  s6  striking  the  drum 
head,  communicates  its  force  to  the  hammer,  and 
through  the  hammer  to  the  anvil,  and  through  this  to 
the  stirrup,  and  through  the  pressure  of  the  stirrup 


EARS  MUST  BE  KEPT  IN  TUNE.  153 

against  the  membrane  in  the  oval  window  to  the  fluid 
which  is  in  the  internal  ear. 

There  is  a  difference  in  the  position  of  the  drum 
of  the  ear  in  different  individuals,  and  it  has  been 
observed  that  those  persons  are  best  musicians,  in 
whom  it  is  more  nearly  vertical.  When  the  ear  is  tuned 
to  hear  the  highest  notes,  an  octave  or  more  above 
the  ordinary  range  is  distinctly  recognized  ;  while  at 
the  same  time  low  tones,  that  before  were  heard,  are 
now  not  audible. 

36  The  auditorium,  or  middle  ear,  is  filled  with  air 
of  the  same  density  as  the  outer  air,  and  is  "  in  com- 
munication with  it  through  the  eustachian  tube,  by 
means  of  which  we  entered  the  auditorium.  There 
are  three  servants  who  have  charge  of  this  tube. 

Sometimes  a  sudden  concussion,  as  by  a  blow  or 
from  jumping,  causes  partial  deafness  or  pain  in  the 
ear.  It  is  well  to  remember  that  38  swallowing,  or 
moving  the  jaws  sideways  a  number  of  times,  may 
relieve  the  difficulty,  by  restoring  the  equilibrium  be- 
tween the  air  in  the  middle  ear  and  the  external  air. 

The  density  or  pressure  of  the  outside  air  varies 
with  every  change  in  the  weather,  and  if  that  in  the 
auditorium  was  not  of  the  same  density,  the  drum 
could  not  vibrate  so  perfectly,  and  of  course  one 
could  not  hear  as  well.  This  equilibrium  is  kept  per- 
fect through  the  eustachian  tube. 

Is  it  not  wonderful  that  our  ears  must  be  kept  in 
tune  like  a  musical  instrument,  and  that  this  is  ac- 
complished  by  means  of  two  membrane  drums,  in 


I  5  4  THE  HO  USE  BE  A  U  TIP  UL. 

connection  with  six  little  bones,  in  the  form  of  two 
hammers,  two  anvils,  and  two  stirrups? 

It  is  almost  beyond  our  comprehension  how  we  can 
use  this  ingenious  device  of  delicate  parts  so  as  to 
hear  everything,  as  we  do,  without  knowing  how  it  is 
made,  or  how  arranged,  or  how  managed  ;  for  those 
who  know  nothing  about  it  appear  to  hear  quite  as 
well  as  those  who  know  the  most  about  its  construe- 
tion.  But  the  most  wonderful  fact  is,  that  the  Great 
Architect  who  gave  it  to  us  has  made  it  so  perfectly, 
that  it  keeps  in  order  so  many  years. 

"  Strange  that  a  harp  of  ten  thousand  strings 
Should  stay  in  tune  so  long  ! " 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

THE   WHISPERING   GALLERY. 

IF  you  should  ever  visit  the  Capitol  at  Washington, 
you  would  observe  that  a  portion  of  the  building  is 
round  and  raised  above  the  roof.  This  is  called  the 
dome,  but  it  might  well  be  called  an  observatory,  for 
from  it  you  obtain  a  fine  view  of  our  magnificent  pub- 
lic buildings,  which  are  not  surpassed  by  any  in  Eu- 
rope. The  space  within  the  dome,  from  the  floor  to 
the  top,  is  called  the  rotunda.  A  small  gallery  runs 
around  the  inside  of  this  rotunda  at  a  height  of 
nearly  two  hundred  feet  above  the  floor,  and  it  is  in 
this  gallery  that  we  are  called  upon  to  listen  to  the 
echo  of  a  whisper.  If  you  stand  at  one  point  and 
whisper  ever  so  softly,  your  friend,  who  is  standing 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  gallery,  can  hear  the 
sound  much  more  distinctly  than  you  can;  for  the 
round  walls  reflect,  or  throw  back  the  sound-waves, 
and  concentrate  them,  at  one  point,  where  they  be- 
come very  loud  and  distinct. 

There  is  a  famous  whispering  gallery  in  St.  Paul's 
Cathedral,  in  London,  and  there  are  others  in  other 
public  buildings  in  Europe. 

You  will  '  be  surprised  when  I  tell  you  that  within 
our  Observatory  we  have  a  whispering  gallery.  But 

d55) 


1 56  THE  HO  USE  BE  A  UTIFUL. 

knowing,  as  you  do,  who  the  Great  Architect  is,  you 
will  not  question  my  statement  that  it  surpasses  all 
whispering  galleries  made  by  man.  It  is,  not  only, 
more  ingenious  in  its  construction,  but  it  is  far  more 
perfect  in  its  workmanship  and  is  eminently  practical 
and  useful. 

In  order  to  enter  this  Whispering  Gallery,  we  will 
start  from  a  2  chamber  in  the  Observatory  among  the 
brain  cells,  called  the  fourth  ventricle.  Here  we  find 
'two  little  white  threads  which  form  the  clue  to  guide 
us.  4  They  together  form  what  is  known  as  the  soft 
portion  of  the  seventh  pair  of  nerves.  This  nerve 
winds  affectionately  around  the  mother  of  all  nerves,, 
'gently  kisses  its  sister,  the  facial  nerve,  and  then 
modestly  covering  itself  in  its  sheath,  hides  itself  in 
the  *  stony  portion  of  the  temporal  bone.  7  There  it 
divides,  and  a  portion  of  it  goes  8  to  the  vestibule. 

In  "studying  the  Auditorium,  we  found  that  the 
force  of  the  sound-waves  was  10  transmitted  through 
the  chain  "  of  tiny  bones  until  it  reached  the  12  stirrup 
which  closed  the  oval  window.  If  now  we  pass 
through  this  oval  la  window,  we  enter  the  vestibule, 
which  is  the  first  division  of  the  14  Whispering  Gallery, 
or  internal  ear.  16We  have  already  reached  the 
same  place  from  the  opposite  direction,  following  the 
nerve  as  a  guide.  This  1G  vestibule  is  the  entrance  to 
a  strange  series  of  winding  galleries,  known  as  the 

labyrinth,  which  means  a  place  full  of  windings. 

The  first  thing  which  attracts  18  our  attention  are 
two  sacs,  or  bags,  which  fill  nearly  two-thirds  of  the 
vestibule.  One  of  these  is  large  and  of  an  19  oval 


THE  LABYRINTH. 


157 


shape,  and  is  called  the  utricule-,  the  other,  small 
and  round,  is  to  called  the  sacule.  These  bags  contain 
little  21  six-sided  bone  stones,  which  have  the  name  of 
22  otoliths  or  otoconia.  And  what  are  they  for  ?  That 
is  another  riddle  which  our  wise  men  have  not 
guessed.  We  know  that  "they  exist  only  in  man 
in  mammals,  and  in  reptiles. 

The  labyrinth  of  the  left  ear,  laid  open  to 
exhibit  its  cavities  and  the  membranous 
labyrinth,  i.  Cavity  of  the  vestibule.  2. 
Ampulla  of  the  superior  semi-circular  canal. 
4.  The  superior  canal,  with  its  contained 
membranous  canal.  5.  Ampulla  of  the  in- 
ferior canal.  6.  Termination  of  the  mem- 
branous canal  of  the  horizontal  semi-circu- 
lar canal  in  the  sacculus  communis.  7.  Am- 
pulla of  the  middle  semi-circular  canal.  8. 
The  same  canal  with  its  membranous  canal. 
9.  Common  canal.  10.  Membranous  com- 
mon canal,  u.  Otoconite  of  the  sacculus 
communis.  12.  Sacculus  proprius  ;  its  oto- 
conite  is  seen  through  its  membranous  par- 
ieties.  13.  First  turn  of  the  cochlea.  14. 
Extremity  of  the  scala  tympani,  correspond- 
ing with  the  fenestra  rotunda.  15.  Lam- 
ina spiralis.  z8.  Half  turn  of  the  cochlea.  THK  LABYRINTH. 
19.  Lamina  spiralis,  terminating  in  its  falciform  extremity.  The  dark  space  in- 
cluded within  the  falciform  curve  of  the  extremity  of  the  lamina  spiralis  is  tha 
helicotrema.  20.  The  infundibulum. 

Opening  out  of  the  vestibule  24  are  five  small,  round 
doors,  and  one  large  one.  If  we  enter  any  one  of 
these  small  doors,  we  find  25  ourselves  in  a  cylindrical, 
membranous  passage,  which  is  surrounded  by  2fl  a 
similar  one  of  bone.  27  There  are  three  of  these  pas- 
sageways, and  each  28  contains  nothing  but  a  little 
fluid,  and  some  of  these  six-sided  ear  bones  or  oto- 
liths. They  a9  curve  round  much  like  the  bow  in  the 

yoke  of  an  ox,  and  following  any  of  these  windings, 

ii 


158 


THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 


we  are  brought  again  to  80  the  vestibule  from  which 
we  started.  That  portion  of  the  nerve  which  comes 
to  the  vestibule  is  31  distributed  to  little  hair-like  pro- 
cesses which  are  found  among  the  otoliths.  3a  These 
stones  are  found  so  near  the  nerves,  that  some  think 
them  to  be  at  the  ends  of  the  nerves ;  but  33  since  we 
have  found  out  that  we  can  hear  without  them,  we 
are  compelled  to  say  that  we  do  not  know  what  the 
otoliths  are  for. 

The  cochlea  divided  parallel  with  its 
axis  through  the  centre  of  the  modio'uR. 
i.  Modiolus.  2.  The  infundibulum. 
3,  3.  Cochlear  nerve.  4,  4.  The  scala 
tympani  of  the  first  turn  of  the  cochlea. 
5,  5.  Scala  vestibuli  of  the  first  turn  ; 
the  septum  between  4  and  5  is  the  lam- 
ina spiralis.  8.  Loops  formed  by  fila- 
ments of  the  cochlear  nerve  on  the 
lamina  spiralis.  9,  9.  Scala  tympani  of 
the  second  turn  of  the  cochlea.  10,  10. 
Scala  vestibuli  of  the  second  turn.  ir. 
Half  turn  of  the  scala  vestibdli  ;  the 
dome  over  it  is  the  cupola.  14.  Heli- 
cotrema  ;  a  bristle  is  passed  through  it, 
in  front  of  which  is  the  hamulus. 


THE  COCHLEA. 


On  one  side  of  the  "  vestibule  begin  two  pairs  of 
winding  stairs,  or  rather  inclined  planes,  divided  by  a 
wall.  Ascending  them,  8a  winding  around  twice  and 
a  half,  we  find  the  same  arrangement  at  se  the  top,  as 
in  a  snail-shell ;  in  fact,  it  is  just  like  a  snail-shell,  and 
is  called  l7  the  cochlea,  or  screw.  Looking  more 
closely,  we  discover  that  the  "wall  between  these 
two  inclined  planes  is  hollow,  and  inside  of  it  3y  is  an- 
other little  stairway.  Mystery  upon  mystery  !  Let 
us  investigate. 

"This  stairway  is  filled  with  a  fluid,  and  extending 


PILLARS  OF  THE  ORGAN  OF  CORTL  159 

'  all  the  way  to  the  top  are  two  rows  of  queer,  tiny 
club-shaped  bodies,  "standing  with  their  big  ends  up- 
permost and  leaning  against  each  other.  *3  Thus  they 
form  a  covered  way  or  arcade  between  them.  44  There 
are  about  nine  thousand  of  these  hair-like  pillars,  and 
46  they  are  so  short  that  it  would  take  two  hundred  of 
the  longest,  or  five  hundred  of  the  shortest,  to  make 
an  inch  in  length.  4fl  A  strange  thing  about  it  is,  that 
the  shortest  ones  are  at  the  bottom,  where  there  is 


Two  PILLARS  OF  THE  ORGAN  OF  CORTI 

The  one  to  the  left  is  known  as  the  external,  the  next  one  as  the  internal  pillar  of 
the  Organ  of  Corti.  They  are  separated  so  as  to  see  their  form,  the  upper  and 
lower  extremities.  The  little  round  spots  at  the  base  are  cells.  When  urited, 
as  seen  at  the  ri.^ht,  the  space  between  them  is  the  arcade. 

the  most  room,  *7  and  the  longest  at  the  top,  where 
the  space  is  least.  46They  are  called  the  pillars  of 
Corti,  because  a  man  named  Corti  first  described  them. 
"All,  together,  they  are  known  as  the  Organ  of  Corti. 
*°  The  second  branch  of  the  nerve  goes  to  the 
cochlea;  where,  breaking  up  into  innumerable 
branches,  it  winds  up  the  spiral  stairway,  and  spreads 
out  between  two  thin,  bony  plates.  Here  these  little 
threads  pass  through  a  knot  of  51  nerve-cells  called  a 
ganglion,  after  which  they  become  so  minute  that  we 


I6o 


THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 


can  not  follow  them  ;  but 62  it  is  believed  that  they  end 
in  the  organ  of  Corti,  that  wonderful  instrument,  that 
arrangement  of  rods  like  the  strings  of  a  miniature 
harp. 

But  how  is  it  that  we  hear?     If  you  throw  a  stone 
'nto  a  lake  or  pond,  or  even  into  a  tub  of  water,  you 
see  waves  start  from  the  point  where  the  stone 

\    \ 


SECTION  OF  THE  ORGAN  OF  CORTI  FROM  A  DUG. 
At  the  left  of  the  figure,  on  the  lower  border,  enters  the  nerve,  and  a  small  nerve- 
fibre  passes  across  the  figure  to  a  hair-cell,  and,  in  so  doing,  passes  over  the  ar- 
cade, above  the  centre  of  which  can  be  seen  the  union  of  the  two  pillars  of  the 
Organ  of  Corti. 

entered  the  water,  and  following  each  other  from  this 
point,  they  will  form  an  ever  widening  circle.  The 
same  is  53  true  of  the  air,  except  that  we  can  not  see 
the  waves. 

If  you  stand  in  the  centre  of  a  room  and  clap  your 
hands,  waves  of  air  will  be  created  which  will  radi- 
ate from  that  point  in  every  direction.  If  you  strike 
64  the  head  of  a  drum,  the  sound  waves  will  be  larger 


A  MUSICAL  NOTE.  l()l 

than  if  you  strike  a  stone  wall.  That  is  because 
the  head  of  the  drum  can  vibrate  more. 

These  sound  waves  C5  strike  the  drum  of  the  ear 
and  cause  it  to  vibrate.  66  Irregular  shocks  commu- 
nicated through  the  air  produce  what  we  call  noise 
47  When  the  shocks  are  such  that  we  can  count  them, 
we  call  them  strokes.  But  if  they  are  very  rapid,  as 
when  made  by  the  wings  of  a  bee,  68  we  have  a  hum 
or  buzz  produced  or,  possibly,  a  musical  note.  B9  The 
uniform  vibrations  of  the  strings  of  a  piano,  or  violin, 
produce  air-waves,  which  are  conveyed  to  our  internal 
ear,  and  which  we  recognize  as  musical  tones. 

Music  is  a  secret  which  the  trembling  strings  whis- 
per to  the  air,  and  the  air  tells  it  again  to  this  won- 
derful  instrument  which  we  find  in  the  Whispering 
Gallery,  this  miniature  harp  with  its  thousands  of 
strings,  which  in  turn  whispers  it  to  our  conscious- 
ness. "  But  how  do  the  pillars  of  Corti  reveal  this 
secret  borne  on  the  air-wave?"  "How  can  they 
whisper  it  again  to  the  Lord  of  the  mansion  ? 

If  I  take  a  tuning-fork  which  gives  a  note  of  the 
pitch  which  we  designate  as  "  A,"  and  which  we  know 
has  a  given  number  of  vibrations  in  a  second,  and 
fasten  it  upright  on  the  table,  and  ten  feet  away  from 
it  fasten  another  of  the  same  pitch  in  the  same  posi- 
tion, and  then  draw  the  bow  of  a  violin  across  the 
first  one,  you  will  hear  it  sing.  If  now  I  put  my  hand 
upon  it,  and  stop  its  vibrations,  you  will  still  hear  the 
same  tone,  and  will  find  that  it  comes  from  the  other 
tuning-fork,  which  has  not  been  touched  by  the  bow. 
This  proves  that  the  second  fork  has  heard  what  the 


1 62  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

first  was  saying,  and  is  repeating  it  to  you.  60  These 
tones  are  called  tones  of  influence.  I  will  give  you 
another  illustration.  Take  a  piece  of  hard  wood,  and 
place  one  end  on  the  sounding-board  of  a  piano,  and 
passing  the  wood  up  into  the  third  story,  place  upon 
the  upper  end  a  violin,  and  the  music  made  upon  the 
piano  in  the  first  story  will  be  audibly  repeated  by  the 
violin  in  the  third  story. 

The  little  pillars  of  Corti,  which  stand  bathed  in  a 
fluid,  are  so  made  that  they  61  are  acted  upon  by 
the  tones  of  influence,  just  as  the  tuning-fork  and 
violin  were.  And  they  are  ever  whispering  to  us 
the  62  tones  carried  to  them,  by  the  vibrations  of  the 
external  air,  through  the  auditory  canal,  and  the 
mechanism  of  the  middle  ear,  the  drum,  the  ham- 
mer,  the  anvil,  and  the  stirrup.  As  there  are  nearly 
nine  thousand  of  these  little  whisperers  they  can 
repeat  to  us  nearly  every  tone  that  can  be  made. 
They  stand  waving  to  and  fro  in  the  fluid  which  sur 
rounds  them,  and  it  is  believed  that  the  stirrup  press- 
ing upon  the  membrane  of  the  oval  window,  and  thus 
upon  the  fluid  in  the  labyrinth,  conveys  the  impres- 
sion made  by  the  air  in  waves  without,  to  these  rods, 
the  organ  of  Corti,  in  which  the  nerves  end  ;  and  that 
they  convey  an  impression  to  the  brain,  which  we  call 
the  sensation  of  hearing. 

It  is  wonderful  how  this  organ  of  Corti  repeats  to 
us  the  most  varied  shading  of  tones.  The  same  note 
may  be  produced  upon  the  violin,  the  flute,  the 
piano,  the  violoncello,  and  yet  the  whispers  inform 
as  correctly  which  is  which.  The  number  of  instru- 


TONE.  WAVES.  ^3 

ments  may  be  greatly  increased,  but  still  the  tones  of 
influence  whisper  to  us  of  every  instrument,  and  every 
change  that  it  makes.  •'  It  is  possible  for  the  human 
ear  to  recognize  tones  varying  from  forty  vibrations 
in  a  second,  to  thirty-eight  thousand  per  second. 

64  The  best  ear  has  a  range  of  about  eleven  octaves. 
86  Six  or  seven  octaves  is  the  usual  limit.  There  are 
persons  who  are  not  able  to  hear  anything  beyond 
the  middle  u  E  "  of  the  piano-forte. 

Such  an  one  6fl  could  not  hear  the  chirp  of  the  com- 
mon spanow,  which  is  pitched  fully  two  octaves 
above  that  note,  much  less  could  he  hear  the  song  of 
;he  cricket,  or  the  squeak  of  the  bat,  which  is  still 
higher  by  another  octave. 

These  highest  tones  must  be  produced  by  very  lit- 
tle waves,  so  small,  in  fact,  that  we  might  think  them 
of  little  importance,  but  we  would  be  mistaken. 
When  we  stand  upon  the  sea-shore  and  listen  to  the 
beating  surf,  we  easily  recognize  the  power  and  force 
of  water.  And  we  might  imagine  that  there  are  no 
waves  more  destructive  than  those  of  water.  But 
did  you  ever  think  how  quiet  and  harmless  is 
the  vast  ocean  when  left  alone  ?  "  The  waves  of 
air  are  the  disturbing  element  which  produce  the 
waves  of  water.  It  is  not  always  the  large  waves 
that  do  the  most  harm.  e8  It  is  the  small  wave  that 
awakens  envy,  hatred,  malice,  and  revenge.  It  is  the 
small  wave  which  speaks  in  slander  that  is  more  de- 
structive than  tempests.  The  tiny  waves  of  a  whisper 
may  wound  a  heart  or  ruin  a  life. 

But  waves  are  a  blessing,  as  well  as  a  source  of 
harm. 


164  THE  MOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

"The  agitation  of  ocean  tends  to  its  purification. 
ro  The  air  of  cities  would  soon  be  unfit  to  breathe  if 
it  were  not  changed  by  the  wind.  Many  good  people 
have  become  deadened  in  conscience  to  a  great 
wrong,  as  slavery  in  the  old  times,  and  intemperance 
at  the  present  day ;  and  a  great  deal  of  agitation  is 
needed  to  awaken  them  and  drive  away  the  stagnant, 
poisonous  mental  air  which  is  stifling  them.  As  the 
ocean  and  earth  need  agitation  to  keep  them  pure,  so 
men  need  moral  agitation  to  keep  their  minds  health- 
ful, and  their  perceptions  clear.  All  this  agitation 
comes  through  the  brave  spoken  words,  that  are  com- 
municated to  us  by  the  vibrations  of  the  wonderful 
harp  of  many  thousand  strings  located  in  our  marvel- 
lous Whispering  Gallery. 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

THE  WINDOWS. 

A  HOUSE  which  had  no  opening  for  the  admission 
of  light  and  air,  and  through  which  the  inhabitants 
could  not  get  a  glimpse  at  the  world  without,  would 
indeed  be  a  dismal  place.  You  may  be  sure  that  the 
Architect  of  our  House  Beautiful  never  made  such  a 
blunder  as  to  forget  the  Windows.  '  To  be  sure  there 
are  only  two  of  them,  but  they  are  so  ingeniously 
constructed  that  they  are  able  to  do  the  duty  of  half 
a  dozen.  They  are  located  on  the  a  front  side  of  the 
Observatory,  under  the  porticoes  made  by  the  arches 
of  the  frontal  bone.  The  portico,  which  protects  the 
*  stairway  used  by  Aura,  the  washerwoman,  separates 
these  windows  one  from  the  other,  and  also  serves  as 
a  protection  to  them.  They  are  still  further  4  pro- 
tected by  a  bony  projection  below  them.  The  6  hollow 
within  these  walls  is  called  the  orbit  of  the  eye,  and 
8  the  eyeball  nearly  fills  it.  T  Behind  the  eyeball  is  a 
cushion  of  fat,  and  around  it  is  a  strong  fibrous  mem- 
brane which  helps  to  8  hold  it  in  place,  but  not  too 
firmly,  for  it  must  be  able  to  turn  here  and  there,  and 
up  and  down. 

9  The  eyes  are  such  very  precious  and  important 
things  that  great  pains  have  been  taken  to  keep  them 

(165) 


1 66  THE  HO  USE  BE  A  u  TIFUL. 

from  injury.  lo  Each  of  these  beautiful  windows  has 
over  it  an  awning  which  is  very  movable,  "  and  lets 
itself  down  over  the  windows  if  any  danger  threatens. 
These  awnings  are  very  delicate,  and  are  12  trimmed 
along  the  edge  with  a  long  fringe.  13  This  fringe 
is  not  altogether  for  looks,  but  acts  also  as  a  guard, 
or  protection,  M  warning  of  the  approach  of  intruders, 
and  trying  to  sweep  them  away.  These  awnings  are 
moved  up  and  down  by  1B  servants,  one  of  whom  lets  it 
drop,  and  another  raises  it,  and  all  this  without  noise 
or  rattle  of  ropes,  or  any  hitch  in  the  working  of  it 
which  would  try  your  patience.  Smoothly  l6  they 
play  up  and  down,  during  all  your  waking  hours,  and 
when  you  go  to  1T  sleep  they  fold  themselves  softly 
over  the  Windows,  keeping  out  the  light  and  guard- 
ing them  from  harm,  until  you  awaken  in  the  bright, 
cheerful  light  of  another  day.  You  will  recognize 
these  awnings  as  the  '"  eyelids.  "  The  Windows 
themselves  are  round,  not,  however,  like  the  little 
round  windows  you  sometimes  see  in  the  cornice  of 
a  house,  nor  like  the  port-holes  in  the  side  of  a  ship, 
which  are  filled  with  a  glass  called  a  "  bull's-eye  "; 
but  they  are  round  like  a  ball,  and  like  the  home- 
made balls  of  yarn,  with  leather  covers,  they  too,  have 
a  firm  covering  or  coat  on  the  outside. 

20  The  eye  is  not  a  perfect  sphere,  but  is  a  little 
longer  one  way  than  the  other,  2I  and  its  longest 
diameter  is  from  front  to  back.  "3  The  outside  cover- 
ing, which  corresponds  to  the  leather  covering  of 
the  boy's  ball,  is  firm  and  white,  and  encloses  five- 
sixths  of  the  eyeball.  It  is  called  the  ™  sclerotic. 


THE  SCLEROTIC. 


I67 


It  is  the  white  part  which  we  see  when  we  look  into 
the  eye,  and  which  we  call  the  a4  "  white  of  the  eye." 
It  is  opaque ;  "that  is,  it  will  not  let  the  light  pass 
through  it.  "  The  other  sixth  of  the  eyeball  is  covered 
with  a  transparent  coat  called  the  cornea.  *T  It  is  not 
thicker  than  a 
sheet  of  writing- 
paper,  and  yet 89  it 
is  even  stronger 
than  the  sclerotic 
coat.  aa  Trans- 
parent not  only 
means  that  light 
can  pass  through 
it,  but  that  we 
can  see  objects 
through  it.  If  it 
only  permitted 
light  to  pass,  and 
we  could  not  see 
through  it,  we 
should  call  it 
translucent ;  but 
the  most  perfect 
crystal,  or  French 
plate-glass,  is  not  more  beautifully  transparent  than 
the  cornea. 

We  all  like  to  have  beautiful  curtains  at  our  win- 
dows, and  the  most  beautiful  are  those  which  do  not 
obstruct  the  light.  The  wonderful  windows  of  our 
beautiful  house  are  "provided  with  curtains,  but  in  - 


DISSECTION  OF  THE  EYEBALL. 

Showing  its  second  tunic,  and  the  mode  of  the  distri- 
bution of  the  venae  vorticosae  of  the  choroid.  Aftei 
Arnold,  i.  Part  of  the  sclerotic  coat.  2.  The 
optic  nerve.  3,  3.  The  choroid  coat.  4.  The 
ciliary  ligament.  5.  The  iris.  6,  6.  Th'e  venae 
vorticosae.  7,  7.  The  trunks  of  the  venae  vorticosae 
at  the  point  where  they  have  pierced  the  sclerotica. 
8,  8.  The  posterior  ciliary  veins,  which  enter  the 
eyeball  in  company  with  the  posterior  ciliary  arte- 
ries, by  piercing  the  sclerotia  at  g.  10.  One  of  the 
long  ciliary  nerves,  accompanied  by  a  long  ciliary 
vein. 


f68  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

stead  of  being  on  the  inside,  they  are  on  the  outside 
of  the  windows.  They  are  made  of  a  8I  delicate  lace- 
like  membrane,  which  lines  the  inside  of  the  awnings, 
11  both  upper  and  lower,  and  is  doubled  back  across 
the  eyeball.  These  curtains  have  a  nicer  name,  I 
think,  than  madras  or  scrim.  "  They  are  called  the 
conjunctiva. 

The  "  sclerotic  and  cornea  together  may  be  called 
the  first  coat  of  the  eye ;  and  86  the  second  coat,  lying 
just  inside  of  this,  is  the  choroid.  S6  It  is  black  in  color, 
so  that  it  will  absorb  the  rays  of  light,  and  "  it  covers 
the  same  part  of  the  eyeball  that  the  sclerotic  does. 
88  You  can  easily  see  that  this  leaves  a  circular  open- 
ing in  front,  39  which  is  covered  on  the  outside  by  the 
cornea.  40  The  edges  of  this  circular  opening  in  front, 
in  the  choroid  coat,  are  gathered  into  folds  or  plaits, 
which  are  41  called  the,  ciliary  processes.  Just  "  lapping 
over  these  a  little,  and  joining  with  the  choroid  coat, 
is  a  very  important  servant  of  the  eye,  known  as 
the  ciliary  muscle.  4i  It  is  a  ring  of  muscular  fibres, 
about  an  eighth  of  an  inch  wide,  that  44  decreases  the 
size  of  the  central  opening  by  just  its  width. 

Of  late  it  has  become  very  fashionable  to  have  cur- 
tains to  doors,  as  well  as  to  windows,  and  we  give 
them  the  fine  French  name  of  porttire,  and  feel  quite 
proud  of  them,  because  we  think  they  are  like  those 
of  which  we  read  in  romances  of  the  olden  time.  But 
all  this  time  our  House  Beautiful  has  had  portieres 
more  wonderful  and  beautiful  than  Persian  tapestry, 
and  more  delicate  even  than  those  of  fairy  lore. 
"  They  have  a  Latin  name,  iris,  which  means  46  rain- 


THE  IRIS.  169 

bow,  so  that  you  may  imagine  that  they  are  very 
beautiful. 

The  iris  is  a  circular  curtain,  47  and  has  a  round 
opening  in  the  centre.  "  Small,  is  it  ?  "  Yes,  only 
49  an  eighth  of  an  inch  across ;  but  then  49  the  curtain 
is  only  half  an  inch  from  side  to  side.  It  is  60  some- 
times gray,  sometimes  brown  or  blue,  or  even  olive 
green,  for  it  must  match  the  rest  of  the  house,  you 
know,  and  it  is  generally  6I  colored  so  as  to  harmonize 
with  the  color  of  the  shingles,  and  that  of  the  outside 
of  the  house,  which  we  call  the  complexion.  But  it 
has  happened  that  one  of  these  curtains  was  blue,  and 
the  other  brown ;  and  I  have  seen  them  where  half 
of  one  was  blue  and  the  other  half  hazel. 

I  saw  in  a  paper  the  other  day  that  it  is  now  not 
fashionable  to  have  two  windows,  even  in  the  same 
room,  curtained  alike,  and  perhaps  the  person  who 
had  a  different  colored  iris  for  each  eye  was  prepar- 
ing to  be  in  the  present  aesthetic  style.  i2  The  open- 
ing in  the  centre  is  called  the  pupil  of  the  eye,  and 
around  this  opening,  on  the  inner  edge  of  the  iris,  &3  is 
a  muscle  whose  office  it  is  to  close  the  pupil  a  little 
when  too  much  light  comes  into  the  eye,  and  around 
its  outer  border  is  another  muscle  to  make  the  pupil 
larger  when  too  little  light  enters  the  eye. 

Wouldn't  your  mamma  be  glad  if  her  parlor  cur. 
tains  would  shut  themselves  when  the  light  was  com- 
ing in  too  strong  on  her  carpet  ?  i4  We  never  have 
to  take  any  thought  about  these  rainbow  curtains  oi 
ours.  They  appear  to  manage  themselves. 

We  have  now  learned  of  two  coats  of  the  eye,  but 


1 70  THE  HO  USE  BE  A  UTIFUL. 

there  is  still  a  third,  65  called  the  retina,  which  we  will 
explain  more  fully  by  and  by. 

But  what  makes  the  eyeball  ?  We  have  thus  far  had 
nothing  but  its  coverings.  Inside  of  all  these  coats 
is  a  &"  glassy  body,  called  the  61 vitreous  humor,  a  little 
more  solid  than  jelly,  69and  almost  spherical.  It 
would  be  entirely  so  were  it  not  "hollowed  out  a 
little  on  the  front  side,  much  as  your  rubber  ball 
would  be  if  you  were  to  dent  it  in,  on  one  side,  with 
your  thumb.  fll  This  hollow  comes  right  behind  that 
part  of  the  eye,  which  is  covered  by  the  cornea  and 
the  iris,  and  in  it  is  placed  the  M crystalline  lens.  You 
almost  know  what  that  is  by  its  name.  Crystalline, 
like  very  clear  glass.;  and  a  lens,  do  you  know  what 
that  is  ?  A  lens  is  a  glass  which  has  the  power  of 
making  things  look  either  larger,  or  smaller,  than  their 
normal  size.  A  concave  lens  makes  them  look  small- 
er, and  is  shaped  like  a  saucer.  88A  convex  lens 
bulges  out  like  the  bottom  of  a  saucer.  If  you  put 
two  convex  lenses  together  you  have  a  "4  double  con- 
vex lens,  and  that  is  what  the  crystalline  lens  is. 

"It  is  placed  behind  the  pupil,  so  that  all  the 
"light  which  enters  the  eye  must  pass  through  the 
lens.  It  is  held  in  place  by  a  "  transparent  circular 
membrane,  called  the  "suspensory  ligament.  The 
outer  edge  of  this  ligament  fits  in  between  those  folds 
of  the  choroid  coat  called  the  ciliary  processes,  and 
thus  completes  the  second  coat  of  the  eye. 

Let  us  now  imagine  the  eye  in  place,  and  see  if  we 
can  gain  a  clear  idea  of  its  construction.  Beginning 
on  the  inside,  there  is  first  the  transparent,  jelly-like, 


CONSTRUCTION  OF  THE  EYE.  \-j\ 

vitreous  humor,  hollowed  out  in  front  to  receive  the 
crystalline  lens.  This  vitreous  humor  is  encircled  by 
three  coats  :  the  retina  inside,  the  choroid  in  the  mid- 
dle, and  the  sclerotic  on  the  outside ;  each  leaving  a 


SECTION  OP  THE  EYE. 

Showing  the  two  chambers  of  the  eye  connecting  through  the  pupil.     The  lens  ; 
vitreous  humor,  retina,  and  optic  nerve. 

circular   space   in   front    of   the  crystalline   lens  un- 
covered. 

69  The  suspensory  ligament  which  divides  to  enclose 
the  lens  completes  the  choroid  coat.  The  cornea 
completes  the  sclerotic.  In  front  of  the  lens  hangs 
the  70  circular  rainbow  curtain,  the  iris,  its  outer  edge 


1 72  THE  HO  USE  BE  A  UTIFUL, 

united  to  the  71  sclerotic  and  cornea  at  their  point  of 
union.  The  iris  divides  the  chamber  of  the  eye  into 
two  rooms  ;  one  before  it  called  the  72  anterior  cham- 
ber, and  one  behind  it  called  the  posterior  chamber 
of  the  eye.  You  see  the  cornea  bulges  out  a  little, 
like  a  watch  crystal,  so  that  leaves  quite  a  space  in 
front  of  the  iris.  The  posterior  chamber  is  made  by 
the  curving  of  the  lens  from  the  iris  which  hangs 
straight  down  before  it.  Both  of  these  chambers  are 
filled  with  aqueous  or  watery  humor. 

What  would  you  think  of  windows  that  would  wash 
themselves  constantly,  so  that  they  would  always  be 
bright  and  clear  ?  Wouldn't  that  be  a  fine  arrange- 
ment ?  "That  is  what  these  windows  do  for  them- 
selves all  the  time.  74  There  is  a  small  ovoid  body 
lodged  up  under  the  awning  and  portico,  out  of  sight, 
called  the  lachrymal  gland,  which  secretes  7Ba  watery 
fluid.  This  is  the  76  tear  gland,  and  has  7T  six  or  more 
ducts  leading  from  it.  T8The  watery  fluid  is  collected 
in  a  little  bag,  and. is  always  ready  for  use.  79  A  little 
of  it  is  constantly  pressed  out  upon  the  eyeball.  ""The 
awning  drops  frequently,  which  we  call  winking,  and 
this  fluid  prevents  friction  of  the  parts,  and  at  the 
same  time  washes  off  any  dust  which  may  have 
touched  the  eye,  thus  keeping  it  moist  and  adding 
much  to  its  brilliancy. 

If  you  will  look  at  the  margins  of  the  upper  and 
lower  lids,  near  the  nose,  you  will  see  a  couple  of 
small  points.  These  are  called  8! puncta,  which  means 
points,  and  they  are  the  openings  into  the  lachrymal 
canals,  which  carry  off  the  excess  of  fluid,  after  it  has 


APPENDAGES  OF  THE  EYE.  173 

washed  the  eye.  They  lead  into  the  nose,  and  this 
explains  why  the  handkerchief  is  often  useful  when 
the  eyes  are  disturbed.  Along  the  82  margins  of  the 
lower  lids  can  be  found  little  openings  which  are  out- 
lets for  glands  which  secrete  an  83  oily  fluid,  which  is 
continually  poured  out  along  the  edges  of  the  lids. 

t.  The  superior  tarsal  catilage.  2.  The 
lower  border  of  the  cartilage,  on  which 
are  seen  the  openings  of  the  Meibomian 
glands.  3.  The  inferior  tarsal  cartilage  ; 
along  the  upper  border  of  this  cartilage 
the  openings  of  the  Meibomian  glands 
are  likewise  seen.  4.  The  lachrymal 
gland — its  superior  or  orbital  portion. 
5.  Its  inferior  or  palpebral  portion.  6. 
The  lachrymal  ducts.  7.  The  plica  semi- 
lunaris.  8.  The  caruncula  lachrymalis. 
9.  The  puncta  lachrymalia  of  the  lachry- 
mal canals.  10.  The  superior  lachrymal 
canal,  n.  The  inferior  lachrymal  canal.  APPENDAGES  OF  THE  EYE. 

12.  The  lachrymal  sac.     14.  The  dilatation  of  the  nasal  duct,  where  it  opens  into 
the  inferior  meatus  of  the  nose.     15.  The  nasal  duct. 

You  know  that  water  and  oil  will  not  willingly  asso- 
ciate together,  and  so  the  water  which  comes  down 
to  wash  the  eyeballs  keeps  away  from  the  edge  of  the 
lids  because  thy  are  covered  with  oil.  8*  This  keeps 
the  water  from  running  down  over  the  cheeks,  and 
so  it  must  go  down  through  the  lachrymal  canal  into 
the  nose,  where  it  will  do  no  harm.  Sometimes,  how- 
ever, this  canal  gets  stopped  up,  and  then  the  fluid 
must  flow  over  the  cheeks,  and  we  then  call  it  tears. 
If  it  continues  long  the  cheeks  will  85 become  sore  and 
painful,  and  look  bad,  and  the  eyes  too  will  get  sore. 
There  are  times  when  from  some  emotional  excite- 
ment, as  when  there  8G  is  sorrow  or  grief,  the  glands 


1 74  THE  HO  USE  BE  A  UTIFUL, 

which  supply  the  tears  are  pressed  upon  so  hard  that 
the  tears  flow  in  great  quantities  over  the  cheeks,  and 
this  we  call  crying,  or  weeping.  Did  you  ever  think  of 
it,  that  while  animals  seem  to  feel  sorrow  for  the  loss 
of  their  young,  "man  is  the  only  animal  that  can 
weep  over  the  sorrows  of  others  ?  He  alone  can 
shed  tears  of  sympathy,  and  he  alone  can  feel  the 
relief  from  such  an  expression  of  sympathy  from  oth- 
ers. A  child  related  to  her  mother  how  she  consoled 
a  companion  who  mourned  the  death  of  a  brother : 
"  I  could  not  say  anything,  but  I  put  my  head  down 
by  hers  and  cried  with  her,  and  she  felt  comforted. " 
We  should  be  thankful  that  we  are  able  to  weep 
with  those  who  weep,  as  well  as  to  rejoice  with  those 
who  rejoice.  Our  beautiful  windows  will  shine  all 
the  brighter  because  they  have  been  washed  by  the 
tears  that  have  fallen  for  others'  woes. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

THE  DOUBLE  TELESCOPE. 

IN  the  midst  of  the  millions  of  nerve-cells  which 
fill  the  dome,  which  we  have  styled  the  Observatory, 
sits  the  master  of  the  house,  the  '  Man  Wonderful,  in 
darkness,  and  in  a  silence  broken  only  by  the  gentle 
whisperings  of  that  wondrous  many-stringed  harp, 
the  organ  of  Corti.  Light  never  enters  his  seclusion, 
he  2  never  ventures  forth  from  his  narrow  abode  until 
he  quits  the  House  Beautiful  forever.  Shut  in  as  he 
is,  he,  *  however,  does  not  remain  ignorant  of  the 
outer  world,  for  over  his  complicated  telegraph  sys- 
tem he  is  constantly  receiving  messages  concerning 
everything  that  is  around  him.  4  Originating  among 
these  nerve-cells  are  twelve  pairs  of  nerve-cables. 
6  These  constitute  the  cerebral  nervous  system. 

8  We  have  learned  how  through  his  Telegraph  sys- 
tem he  becomes  acquainted  with  himself,  and  to  some 
extent  with  the  outer  world  ;  7  but  by  far  the  greater 
part  of  his  information,  about  things  outside  of  him- 
self, which  the  German  style  the  "  Not  me,"  comes  to 
him  over  the  nerves  which  connect  with  the  Tele- 
scopes. 8  The  great  importance  of  these  Telescopes 
is  indicated  by  the  fact  that  the  second,  third,  fourth, 

(175) 


1 76  THE  HO  USE  BEAU  TIP  UL. 

and  sixth  pairs  of  nerves  and  one  of  the  three 
branches  of  the  fifth  pair  are  all  employed  in  the 
transmission  of  messages  to  and  from  them. 

You  all  know  what  a  telescope  is,  9  an  instrument 
so  made  that  you  can  look  at  distant  objects,  at  dif- 
ferent distances,  by  lengthening  or  shortening  its  cyl- 
inder. In  observatories  the  telescopes  are  so  10  large 
and  heavy,  that  ropes  and  pulleys  are  necessary  to 
change  the  position  so  as  to  see  different  objects.  1!  If 
such  a  telescope  were  endowed  with  the  power  to 
change  its  position  and  lengthen  or  shorten  its  tube 
just  when  it  was  needed  without  any  direction  from 
the  owner,  it  would  be  considered  a  marvel  of  skill ; 
but  how  much  more  marvellous  would  it  be  if  there 
were  two  such  telescopes  which,  having  such  power, 
should  work  always  accurately  together. 

11  It  is  such  a  pair  of  Telescopes  that  is  used  by  the 
Man  Wonderful  in  the  House  Beautiful.  Through 
them  he  receives  the  greatest  amount  of  his  informa- 
tion, 1S  and  you  know  them  as  the  eyes.  I3  Each  eye 
is  moved  by  six  muscles.  When  the  eyes  are  directed 
to  one  side,  an  external  muscle  of  the  one  eye  and  an 
internal  muscle  of  the  other  work  together.  One 
muscle  is  particularly  worthy  of  being  named,  as  it 
works  over  a  pulley.  M  It  is  called  the  superior  ob- 
lique and  is  attached  to  the  upper  part  of  the  eyeball, 
16  and  its  action,  in  connection  with  its  fellow,  the  in- 
ferior oblique,  is  to  rotate  the  eyeball.  The  most 
18  important  of  the  nerves  which  go  the  eyes  are 
the  optic  nerves.  They  have  their  "  origin  in  the 
cells  in  that  portion  of  the  brain  known  as  the 


THE  OPTIC  COMMISSURE. 


177 


corpora  quadrigemina.  18  Coming  forward  from  either 
side  of  the  brain  they  cross  each  other  like  the  lettei 
X.  The  point  '/vhere  they  cross  is  called  the  optic  com- 
missure. 

It  is  of  the  greatest  interest  to  remember  how  the 
nerve  threads  or  fibres  are  distributed  and  arranged 
within  this  optic  commissure.  First,  19  some  fibres  go 

View  of  the  ocular  group,  taken 
from  the  outer  side  of  the  right 
orbit,  i.  A  small  fragment  of 
the  sphenoid  bone  around  the 
entrance  of  the  optic  nerve  into 
the  orbit.  2.  Optic  nerve.  3. 
Globe  of  the  eye.  4.  Levator 
palpebrae  iruscle.  5.  Superior 
oblique.  6.  Its  cartilaginous 
pulley.  7.  Its  reflected  tendon. 

8.    Inferior  oblique,      o.   Supe- 

MUSCLES   OF   THE    EYEBALL, 
rior  reel  (is.    10.  internal  rectus, 

almost  concealed  by  the  optic  nerve,  n.  Parts  of  the  external  nvlos,  showing  its 
two  heads  of  origin.  12.  Extremity  of  the  external  rectus  at  its  iusertion.  13,  In- 
ferior rectus.  14.  The  tunica  albuginea,  which  is  formed  by  the  expansion  of  the 
tendons  of  the  four  recti  muscles. 

from  the  right  to  the  left  side  of  the  brain ;  second, 
some  go  from  the  right  side  of  the  brain  to  the  left 
eye ;  third,  some  go  from  the  right  side  of  the  brain 
to  the  right  eye ;  fourth,  some  go  from  the  right  eye 
to  the  left  eye,  and  all  pass  through  this  optic  com- 
missure. 

The  same  arrangement  is  true  of  the  fibres  which 
start  from  the  left  side  of  the  brain.  "These  fibres 
all  enter  the  posterior  or  back  portion  of  the  eyeball, 
through  one  opening.  Once  inside  of  the  eyeball, 
they  spread  out  and  connect  with  the  21  cells  of  the 
retina,  each  fibre  ending  in  a  cell.  2a  Reviewing  the 
connection  of  the  eyes  with  each  other  and  with  the 


!  78  THE  HO  USE  BEA  UTIFUL. 

brain,  we  see  that  a  nerve-fibre  goes  from  a  cell  in 
one  eye  to  a  cell  in  the  other ;  that  a  nerve-fibre  goes 
from  a  cell  in  one  eye  to  a  cell  in  each  side  of  the 
brain ;  that  a  nerve-fibre  goes  from  a  cell  in  one  side 
of  the  brain  to  a  cell  in  the  other  side  of  the  brain. 

23  It  would  not  be  pos- 
sible to  connect  the  eyes 
more  intimately.  a4  At 
the  point  where  the  optic 
nerve  enters  the  eye,  light 
makes  no  impression 
upon  the  retina,  and  it  is 
called  the  blind  spot. 
*5  About  one-eighth  of  an 
inch  external  to  the  en- 
JMBNT.  trance  of  the  optic  nerve, 

The  posterior  segment  of  a  transverse  sec-     •      \^\^  Central   axis   of    the 
tion  of  the  globe  of  the  eye,  seen  from 

within,   i.  The  divided  edge  of  the   eyeball,  and  at  this  point 

three  tunics.     The  membrane  covering     ,1  •        <*  ]  f 

srnal  surface  is  the  retina.     \  OVal     SPOt' 

Its    horizontal   diameter 
is  27  one-eighth  of  an  inch, 

arteria  centralis.     4.  Foramen  of  Socm-     jtS     Vertical      diameter     is 
mering,  in  the  centre  of  the  axis  of  the  ,   .  ,  , 

eye;  the  shade  from  the  side  of  the  sec-     OHC  -  thirty  -  SlXtll     of      an 
tion  obscures   the  limbus  luteus,  which 
surrounds  it.     5.  A  fold   of  the  retina, 
which  generally  obscures  the  foramen 


the  whole  internal  surface 
2.  The  entrance  of  the  optic  nerve  with 
the  arteria  centralis  retinae  piercing  its 
centre.  3  3-  The  ramifications  of  the 


inch. 


88  It  is  called  the 
spot  of 


after  the  eye  has  been  opened.  [n^  2»  Jn  ^Q  centre  of  this 

spot  is  a  depression  known  as  \.\\zfovea  centralis.  This 
depression  is  exactly  in  the  centre  of  vision.  It  is  this 
little  point  which  catches  the  light  from  the  centre  of 
every  object  that  we  look  at.  3>>  The  optic  nerve  forms 
a  layer  of  the  retina,  that,  at  the 31  yellow  spot  of  Soem- 


THE  GANGLION  CELLS. 


179 


mering,  is  not  more  than  one-fifty-thousandth  of  an 
inch  in  thickness,  32  but  becomes  progressively  thick- 
er from  this  central 
point  to  the  periphery 
of  the  retina.  ™  Rest- 
ing upon  this  are 
nerve-cells  which,  at 
the  yellow  spot,  34  are 
eight  layers  deep,  but 
which  grow  progres- 
sively thinner,  so  that 
at  the  periphery  there 
is  but  one  layer  of 
cells.  *  These  are 
known  as  the  gan- 
glion cells.  "  Each 
one  sends  a  filament 
to  the  layer  formed 
by  the  expansion  of 
the  optic  nerve,  which 
is  continuous  with  the 
nerve-fibre.  "  These 
ganglion  cells  send 
out  filaments  in  the 
other  direction  which 
go  forward,  through 
different  granular 

law^rc      38  anrl     rnrrms      The  internal   limiting  membrane  of  the  retina 

layers       and  corpus-     is  seen  at  the  baf e.  The  four  rounded  bodies 

Cles,  and  COnneCt  With        above  are  in  the  vesicular  layer. 

the  rods  and  cones  which  form  the 3i)  first  layer  of  the 
retina.  *•  These  rods  and  cones  are  minute  slender  cyl- 


THE  HO  USE  BE  A  U  TIFUL. 

inders,  standing  with  a  free  end  pointing  toward  the 
centre  of  the  eyeball.  41  Light  in  entering  the  eye 
strikes  first  upon  the  ends  of  these  innumerable  needle- 
like  bodies,  and  through  them  the 42  impression  is  trans- 
mitted to  the  eighth  coat  of  the  retina,  which  is  the 
first  one  we  examined,  and  is  the  expansion  of  the 
optic  nerve.  When  the  light  from  the  centre  of  an 
object  does  not  strike  directly  upon  the  centre  of  the 
eye,  which  we  have  learned  is  the  yellow  spot  of  Soem- 
mering, 43  the  eye  involuntarily  changes  its  position  in 
order  that  the  light  may  be  received  upon  the  centre 
of  this  spot,  the  fovea  centralis. 

44  In  order  to  effect  this  change  a  message  must  be 
sent  from  the  eye  through  the  optic  nerve  to  the  cells 
in  the  brain.  45  This  message  must  be  transmitted 
through  the  third,  fourth,  and  sixth  pairs  of  nerves 
48  to  the  muscles  which  control  the  movements  of  the 
eye.  Then  the  eye  is  properly  adjusted.  All  this  is 
doae  without  the  knowledge  or  direction  of  the  mas- 
ter of  the  house. 

47  Whenever  too  much  light  enters  the  eye  a  mes- 
sage must,  in  like  manner,  be  sent  to  the  brain  and 
word  received  in  return  for  the  muscles  to  contract 
the  opening  in  the  iris,  and  make  the  pupil  smaller. 
"  When  the  object  is  too  near,  or  we  wish  to  see  more 
distinctly,  a  message  is  sent  to  the  brain,  and  an  order 
received  that  the  49  ciliary  muscles  shall  contract,  and 
thereby  make  the  crystalline  lens  more  convex,  and 
bring  into  action  the  microscopic  powers  of  the  eye. 
*°  Such  messages  as  these  are  constantly  being  sent, 
and  perhaps  many  of  them  at  one  and  the  same  time. 


A  BEAUTIFUL  PICTURE.  i%i 

and  all  these  changes  go  on  harmoniously,  both  eyes 
acting  exactly  alike.  If  the  master  had  to  take 
thought  of  the  movements  of  his  eyes  he  would  have 
little  time  for  anything  else. 

We  have  studied  the  outside  of  the  eye  and  have 
admired  those  beautiful  windows  with  their  rainbow- 
colored  curtains,  with  lace  ones  over,  and  the  delicate 
fringed  awnings  for  protection  ;  but  if  we  take  aglass 


SECTION  OF  THE  LENS,  SHOWING  THE  MECHANISM  OF  ACCOMMODATION. 

f  he  right  side  of  the  figure  shows  the  lens  adapted  to  the  vision  of  a  near  object ; 
the  lens  is  thicker,  The  left  side  shows  it  adapted  to  vision  at  infinite  distances. 
-(FlSK.) 

called  an  ophthalmoscope  and  look  through  the  pupil 
into  the  eye,  we  shall  find  that  all  its  beauties  are  not 
external. 

63  The  artery  which  supplies  the  eye  enters  with 
the  optic  nerve.  6S  It  divides  and  subdivides,  and 
spreads  out  upon  the  retina  like  the  branches  of  a 
beautiful  scarlet  vine  trained  against  a  wall,  and  the 
64  light  reflected  from  these  gives  the  whole  eye  a  del- 
icate pink  hue,  a  picture  not  revealed  to  ordinary 
gaze,  but  none  the  less  of  incomparable  beauty. 


1 82  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

What  is  light  ?  I  can  not  answer  this  question.  1 
know  that  light  passes  through  transparent  glass,  but 
I  can  not  comprehend  it.  But  we  are  taught  that  it 
is  a  mode  of  motion.  Another  mode  of  motion  is 
heat.  We  know  that  "light  passing  through  the 
air  creates  caloric  or  heat.  When  it  passes  through 
glass  the  heat  is  increased.  If,  then,  where  the  me- 
dium has  more  density  there  is  more  heat,  are  we 
not  justified  in  believing  that  it  is  friction  which 
causes  heat  ?  And  if  there  is  friction  must  there  not 
be  something  to  cause  friction  ? 

We  can  see  and  feel  the  effects  of  waves  of  w-ater. 
We  can  not  see,  but  we  can  feel,  the  effects  of  waves 
of  air.  We  can  also  weigh  the  atmosphere  and  know 
that  we  have  a  pressure  of  fifteen  pounds  to  the 
square  inch.  But  here  is  a  something  which  we  can 
neither  see,  feel,  nor  weigh.  Can  we  in  any  way  de- 
monstrate that  it  has  power  ?  6fl  Analysis  shows  that 
it  has  rays  of  light  and  heat,  as  well  as  chemical  rays. 
We  know  that  it  causes  plants  to  grow,  and  a  machine 
has  been  constructed,  called  a  "  radiometer,  which, 
placed  in  a  vacuum,  runs  simply  by  the  force  of  the 
rays  of  light.  68  Light  has  been  analyzed  and  found 
to  be  compounded  of  the  colors  of  the  rainbow.  And 
it  has  been  found  that  6°  the  color  of  light  is  deter- 
mined solely  by  its  wave  length.  !0  The  length  of  a 
wave  of  red  light  is  about  one-thirty-nine-thousandth 
of  an  inch,  and  that  is  the  longest  wave.  01  Light 
travels  at  the  rate  of  192,000  miles  in  a  second.  We 
have  only  to  multiply  this  distance  by  39,000  and  we 
will  have  the  number  of  red  waves  of  light  that  will 


WAVES  OF  LIGHT.  jg^ 

strike  the  eye  in  a  second.  And  this  makes  about 
474,000,000,000,000  (four  hundred  and  seventy-four 
trillions)  of  red  waves  that  strike  the  eye  in -a  second.* 
These  multitudinous  waves  striking  against  the  ends 
of  the  rods  and  cones,  and  through  them  transmitted 
to  the  brain  cells,  produce  the  sensation  known  as 

light. 


*  Tyndall. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

TWIN-BROTHER   GUARDIANS. 

POLITENESS  requires  that  when  we  visit  our 
friends,  we  should  rap  at  the  door,  or  ring  the  bell, 
and  wait  to  be  admitted.  If  we  are  calling  upon  a 
stranger,  we  are  often  requested  to  state  our  business 
before  we  are  permitted  to  see  the  master  of  the 
house.  There  must  then  be  certain  persons  whose 
employment  and  duty  it  is  to  scan  those  who  desire 
admittance  to  the  dwelling,  and  state  what  is  the 
pleasure  of  the  master.  These  persons  might  well 
be  called  the  Guardians  of  the  house.  If  the  grocer's 
boy  comes  with  food,  it  is  accepted,  unless  it  is  not 
what  was  ordered  or  is  in  some  way  defective.  The 
servants  are  apt  to  form  their  judgments  from  their 
own  personal  likes  or  dislikes,  and  their  opinion  may 
not  always  be  correct.  Yet  the  master  of  the  house 
must  rely  upon  their  judgment  to  some  extent,  or  the 
servants  will  be  of  little  use  to  him. 

It  is  not  to  be  expected  that  a  house  so  valuable 
as  our  House  Beautiful  would  be  left  unguarded. 
There  are  several  guards  stationed  in  different  parts 
of  the  house  who  watch  over  its  welfare.  '  One  of 
these  is  stationed  in  the  lower  front  hall.  a  He  is  a 
(184) 


TASTE  LIVES  IN  THE  TONGUE.  ^5 

s^ft,  smooth,  supple  individual,  and  wears  a  pink  uni- 
form, and,  like  all  the  servants  of  this  3  house,  is  never 
allowed  a  day  out.  He  is  ever  on  duty,  though  he 
often  puts  his  head  outside  the 
door  to  take  a  peep  at  the  world. 
He  is  so  soft  and  nice  when  you 

T'ie  tongue  and  its  papillae  are  shown,  i.  The 
raphe,  which  sometimes  bifurcates  in  the  dorsum, 
as  in  the  engraving.  2,  2.  Lobes  of  the  tongue  ; 
the  rounded  eminences  on  this  part  of  the  organ 
and  near  its  tip  are  the  fungiform  papillae  ;  the 
smaller  papillae,  among  which  the  former  are  dis- 
persed, are  the  conical  and  filiform  papillae.  3. 
Tip  of  the  tongue.  4,  4..  Its  sides,  on  which  the 
papillae  are  aro.nged  in  fringed  and  lamellated 
forms.  5,  5.  The  A-shaped  row  of  papillae  cir- 
cumvaltatap.  6.  Foramen  ccecum.  7.  Mucous 
glands  at  the  head  of  the  tongue.  8.  Epiglottis. 
9,  9.  Fraena  epiglott'dis.  10,  10.  Greater  cornua 
of  the  hyoid  bone. 

please  him,  that  you  might  fancy 
that  he  could  never  be  cross; 
4  but  if  he  does  not  like  people, 

,  THE  TONGUE. 

he  never  hesitates  to  say  so,  and 
he  turns  them  out  of  the  house  at  once.    5  Sometimes, 
on  a  long  acquaintance,  he  becomes  attached  to  those 
who  at  first  were  very  disagreeable  to  him. 

You  8  have  not  forgotten  that  repairs  are  constantly 
going  on  in  our  house,  and  that  nearly  everything 
needed  to  build  it  up  is  brought  to  the  lower  front 
door.  7  Here  it  is  examined  by  this  guard,  who  de- 
cides whether  it  suits  him  to  let  it  pass  or  not. 
8  He  can  not  always  make  a  final  decision,  but  submits 
the  matter  to  the  owner  of  the  dwelling  for  his  opin. 
ion.  ' "  This  tastes  good,"  he  says,  "  I  think  you  bet- 


1 86  THE  HO  USE  BE  A  UTIFUL. 

tei  let  it  pass ";  or,  "  This  does  not  taste  gooJ,  I 
would  rather  you  would  not  admit  it."  The  owner 
likes  to  please  this  guard,  who  has  the  rather  long 
name  of  10  Gustatory  Sense,  and  generally  refuses  to 
admit  those  whom  Gustatory  Sense  dislikes.  But 
there  are  times  when  he  must  decline  to  be  guided 
by  the  opinion  of  another,  and  must  decide  by  his 
own  reason  whether  the  article  shall  be  admitted  or 
not. 

11  Gustatory  Sense  is  such  a  long  name,  that  he  is 
generally  called  Taste.  "  Taste  has  to  be  carefully 
watched.  He  does  not  always  know  just  what  is 
needed  in  the  house,  and  makes  his  decision  from 
his  own  personal  likings.  ls  He  is  fond  of  sweets,  and 
sometimes  sends  so  much  of  them  into  the  kitchen, 
that  the  cook  complains  that  he  can  not  dispose  of 
them,  and,  by  and  by,  perhaps  the  other  assistant 
cooks  get  soured  with  being  14  overworked  in  digesting 
so  much  sweet,  and  they  rebel  and  say,  "  We  will  not 
have  it,"  and  they  call  in  some  powerful  muscular  ser- 
vants to  aid  them,  and  they  send  the  "offending  sub- 
stance back  up  the  kitchen  stairs  and  out  at  the  front 
door,  18  and  Taste  does  not  like  that  at  all.  He  never 
relishes  anything  after  the  cooks  have  been  working 
at  it. 

17  If  the  muscles  are  not  sufficient  to  send  out  the 
offending  material,  the  owner  of  the  house  may  call 
in  a  helper,  whose  name  is  designated  by  the  two  let- 
ters, Dr. ;  18  and  he  gives  something  which  Taste  would 
gladly  put  out  of  the  house  at  once,  but  he  is  com- 
pelled to  let  it  pass,  and  when  it  gets  into  the 


WE  MUST  GOVERN  TASTE.  187 

kitchen,  it  causes  such  a  great  disturbance,  that  an 
extra  effort  is  made  to  get  rid  of  this  new  intruder, 
and,  in  the  accomplishment  of  it,  the  "obnoxious 
sweet  is  also  sent  out,  and  poor  Taste  feels  that  he 
has  a  hard  time  of  it.  You  ao  would  think  that  he 
would  learn  by  this  experience  to  avoid  that  mistake 
again,  but  the  truth  is,  that  when  he  has  once  ac- 
quired a  liking  for  a  substance,  he  will  accept  its 
company,  no  matter  how  much  trouble  it  may  cause 
in  the  house. 

"  It  is,  therefore,  important  not  to  allow  him  to 
make  objectionable  acquaintances,  for  he  may  become 
so  intimate  with  them  that  he  becomes  very  unhappy 
unless  he  can  have  their  constant  society.  "  Unfor- 
tunately we  can  not  discharge  him,  although  he  may 
make  us  a  great  deal  of  trouble  or  even  pain.  We  can 
only  take  charge  of  him,  and  "  not  allow  him  to  be- 
come master  of  the  house.  f4  He  will  grumble  very 
loudly,  and  complain  that  he  is  very  miserable  because 
we  do  not  trust  him,  and  sometimes  he  induces  other 
servants  to  join  in  this  fault-finding;  the  only  way 
then  to  do,  is  not  to  listen  to  any  of  them,  but  give 
them  to  understand  that  a5  Reason,  not  Taste,  is  mas- 
ter ;  and  when  he  has  been  taught,  by  Science  or  Ex- 
perience, that  certain  things  are  harmful,  we  will 
listen  to  his  advice  and  not  to  that  of  Taste,  who  self- 
ishly, at  such  times,  cares  only  for  his  own  pleasure 
and  not  for  our  real  good. 

18  When  people  live  in  a  simple  and  wholesome  man 
ner,  the  judgment  of  Taste  is  usually  to  be  trusted 
IT  He  will  always  say  that  milk  is  good,  that  he  likes 


I  g  8  THE  HO  USE  BE  A  UTIF  UL. 

plain  bread  and  butter,  and  simply-cooked  vegetables 
and  meats.  But  28  if  he  is  accustomed  to  having 
everything  dressed  up  very  fine  for  his  pleasure,  he 
loses  the  ability  to  judge  of  the  worth  of  honest, 
wholesome,  plainly-dressed  visitors,  and  decides  that 
he  prefers  appearances  to  reality.  29  He  is  quick  to  be 
educated  in  wrong  habits.  So  it  is  very  important 
that  we  should  be  careful  to  give  him  a  good  educa- 
tion. 80 1  have  seen  little  people  whose  Gustatory 
Sense  said  that  he  would  not  admit  bread  into  the 
house  unless  it  wore  a  coat  of  sugar  or  honey,  and  as 
papas  and  mammas  know  bread  is  very  necessary  to 
life,  they  sometimes  think  that  they  will  be  31  obliged 
to  listen  to  the  demands  of  Taste,  or  the  little  beauti- 
ful house  will  get  out  of  repair.  82  So  in  order  to  get 
all  of  the  substances  needed  for  repairs,  the  cooks  are 
obliged  to  dispose  of  too  much  of  something  not 
needed. 

If,  when  88he  insists  upon  having  all  of  his  com- 
pany dressed  up,  he  were  deprived  of  all  company  for 
a  while,  he  would  be  very  much  pleased  to  receive  a 
call  from  a  piece  of  very  dry  bread,  and  would  say, 
"  O,  how  good  that  tastes." 

There  are  several  bad  habits  into  which  Taste  may 
fall.  He  S4  enjoys  "  good  things  "  so  well  that  he  often 
gets  into  the  habit  of  tasting  too  frequently.  He  is 
not  satisfied  with  what  he  gets  at  the  table,  but  he 
must  be  tasting  between  meals,  and  this  creates  a 
great  deal  of  trouble  in  the  house.  36  The  cooks  get 
out  of  patience  because  he  keeps  them  all  the  time  at 
work,  so  that  they  get  very  little  chance  to  rest,  and 


PAPILLA  OF  THE   TONGUE.  jgg 

no  one  likes  to  be  always  working  hard.  But,  8"if 
Reason  does  not  govern  this  little  fellow  in  the  pink 
uniform,  instead  of  being  our  guardian,  he  becomes 
our  destroyer.  Sometimes  he  is  not  content  to  eat  a 
fair  amount  at  meal-time,  but  calls  for  more  and  more 
until  he  fills  his  poor  kitchen  so  full  that  it  "  can  not 


FILIFORM.  FUNGIFORM.  CIRCUMVALLATE. 

THE  THREE  KINDS  OF  PAPILLA  OF  THE  TONGUE  MAGNIFIED. 
1  fie  fungiform  termination  of  nerves  is  found  on  the  end  and  border  of  the  tongue  ; 
the  filiform  on  the  middle,  and  the  circumvallate  on   the  back  portion   of  the 
tongue.     An  artery  and  vein  can  be  seen  going  into  each  papilla  ;   the  artery  is 
farthest  to  the  left. 

squeeze  together,  and  the  master  is  made  to  feel  very 
uncomfortable,  to  say  the  least,  and  often  he  is  caused 
to  suffer  pain  and  disease.  88  Another  bad  habit  is  to 
call  for  food  so  fast  that  the  owner  is  obliged  to  eat 
as  fast  as  he  can,  to  gratify  Taste's  desire  to  feel  some 
thing  good  passing  over  him  all  the  time.  89  This  is 
the  cause  of  indigestion,  because  40  food  that  is  swal- 

13 


190 


THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 


lowed  so  rapidly  can  not  be  well  masticated,  and  that 
makes  more  work  for  the  cooks,  and  the  result  is  that 
they  can  not  do  their  work  well, 41  and  so  the  house  is 
not  well  repaired.  42  If  Taste  did  but  know  it,  he 
would  enjoy  much  more  to  let  the  food  stay  longer 
in  the  mouth,  and  turn  it  over  and  over,  chewing  it 
well,  and  so  obtain  a  full  taste  of  all  the  sweetness. 

43  A  very  common  bad  habit  of  his  is  desiring 
all  food  to  be  rich  in  quality,  full  of  sugar  or  fats 
or  spices,  all  of  which  he  soon  acquires  a  taste  for, 
and  says  things  are  poor  and  not  good  unless  contain- 
ing a  large  quantity  of  these  things.  He  makes  a 
mistake  in  calling  them  good,  for  they  are  44  not  good, 
unless  they  are  needed  to  keep  the  house  in  repair  or 
to  keep  it  growing.  If  we  desire  that  Gustatory  Sense 
shall  be  truly  our  guardian,  we  must  keep  him  from 
acquiring  these  bad  habits,  or  he  will  in  time  become 
our  master,  and  a  very  tyrannical  master  he  is,  I 
assure  you. 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

THE   OTHER  TWIN-BROTHER. 

1  ONE  of  the  guardians  of  our  house  makes  his  home 
in  the  upper  part  of  the  winding  stairway  used  by 
Aura  in  going  to  the  laundry, — we  might  say  in  the 
third  story.  2  A  German,  named  Schneider,  first  dis- 
covered his  hiding-place  in  a  3  pink  membrane,  which 
is  therefore  called  the  Schneiderian  membrane.  4  Gus- 
tatory Sense  presides  over  the  foods  and  drinks.  He 
is  a  very  good  guardian,  but  he  6  can  not  examine 
those  companions  of  Aura  who  go  in  by  the  winding 
stairway,  and  he  is  therefore  assisted  by  his  6  twin- 
brother,  Olfactory  Sense,  called  familiarly  Smell. 

7  Aura,  whom  you  will  remember  as  a  washerwoman, 
is  also  a  very  important  and  helpful  person,  but,  like 
some  others,  has  relatives  whom  we  can  not  altogether 
trust,  for  she  is  related  to  the  8Gas  family,  some  of 
whom  are  very  dangerous.  You  will  remember  that 
"carbonic  acid  gas  is  such  a  deadly  foe  to  life  that  it 
is  constantly  being  thrown  out  of  the  house.  10Some 
of  these  dangerous  gases  Smell  always  detects,  and 
notifies  the  master  of  the  approach  of  harm.  "  Aura, 
although  a  relative  of  the  Gases,  and  intimate  with 
them,  is  nevertheless  always  trying  to  prevent  them 

(191) 


1^2  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

from  doing  harm,  and  acts  as  a  peacemaker  between 
them  and  us.  If  you  go  into  a  cellar  that  has  been 
shut  for  a  long  time,  Smell  tells  you  that  a  bad  air  has 
accumulated  there.  12  Open  the  window  and  admit 
Aura;  and  she,  13true  to  her  nature,  begins  to  purify 
and  cleanse  the  place,  and  render  the  bad  air  harm- 
less. There  are  circumstances  in  which  Smell  is  not 
able  to  do  his  duty  in  detecting  the  foes  of  the  house- 
hold. One  of  these  is  14  when  connection  has  been 
cut  off  between  him  and  the  master,  as  is  the  case  in 
a  bad  cold.  16At  this  time  we  also  find  it  difficult 
to  tell  the  true  taste  of  foods.  Indeed  it  is  often 
difficult  to  decide  whether  the  idea  we  have  of  a  sub- 
stance is  formed  from  the  opinion  expressed  by  Taste 
or  Smell,  they  are  so  closely  related.  That  which  we 
suppose  to  be  the  flavor  of  onions  or  garlic  is  in  re- 
ality their  odor. 

Sometimes  lfi  Smell  seems  to  have  lost  his  conscience, 
and  associates  with  bad  odors  without  saying  any- 
thing about  them.  17  If  you  sleep  at  night  with  doors 
and  windows  closed,  in  the  morning  you  wake  up  not 
feeling  rested.  But  Smell  says  nothing  to  you  of  bad 
air.  He  has  been  associating  with  it  all  night,  and 
has  got  accustomed  to  it.  But  go  out  into  the  fresh, 
clear  morning  air  for  a  brisk  run,  and  then  return  to 
your  room,  and  then  Smell  suffers  a-  spasm  of  con- 
science, and  exclaims:  "  O,  18what  a  dreadful  atmos- 
phere; I  can  not  endure  it."  Then  he  continues,  in 
quite  a  dictatorial  manner:  "  Don't  you  know  that  you 
have  been  washing  your  blood  in  this  air  for  hours? 
Do  not  breathe  it  over  again.  It  is  poison.  You 


SMELL  AND   TASTE  TWIN-BROTHERS.         193 

have  nearly  smothered  me  already.  I  shudder  to  think- 
how  you  have  been  compelling  me  to  smell,  all  night 
long,  the  19  waste  matter  which  your  body  has  been 
casting  off.  2°You  would  not  drink  water  which  you 
had  used  for  washing  your  clothes,  or  even  your  faces ; 
yet  that  is  cleanly  compared  to  breathing,  again 
and  again,  the  air  that  has  been  used  for  washing 
your  blood." 

When  Smell  does  wake  up,  he  is  apt  to  be  pretty 
severe  in  his  scoldings,  and  more  than  that  he  is  right, 
too.  "  But  what  shall  we  do  ?  We  must  breathe  at 
night."  That  is  true,  and  we  should  be  careful  to  ad- 
mit plenty  of  fresh  air  to  breathe.  Don't  be  afraid 
of  night  air  in  your  bedrooms.  It  is  all  the  kind  of 
air  you  can  get  at  night,  and  to  have  it  coming  in 
pure  and  fresh  is  far  better  than  to  be  shut  up  with 
a  small  quantity,  and  breathe  it  over  and  over  again. 
It  is  not  necessary  that  you  should  have  a  S1  draft 
through  ;  if  you  only  have  an  opening  somewhere  the 
air  will  be  constantly  changing.  We  can  prove  this 
by  experiment. 

Most  gases  are  lighter  than  air,  and  consequently 
have  a  tendency  to  rise.  *2  When  we  fill  a  cup  with 
them  we  have  to  turn  it  bottom  up  so  as  to  hold 
them.  23  But  carbonic  acid  gas,  the  gas  which  is  be- 
ing thrown  off  from  the  lungs  constantly,  is  24  heavier 
than  air,  and  can  be  put  into  a  cup  that  is  right  side 
up.  It  can  be  poured  from  one  cup  into  another, 
just  as  water  can,  and  we  prove  this  by  25  putting  a 
lighted  taper  into  the  cup.  If  it  be  full  of  carbonic 
acid  gas  the  light  will  not  burn,  and  a  gas  which  is  so 


I94 


THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 


deadly  to  light  is  equally  deadly  to  life.  2G  Although 
this  gas  is  heavier  than  air,  if  we  leave  a  cupful  of  it 
standing  open  we  shall  find,  after  a  time,  that  it  has 
climbed  out  of  the  cup,  and  diffused  itself  throughout 
the  air  of  the  room ;  so,  although  it  sinks  to  the  bot- 
tom of  our  bedrooms,  yet  if  we  leave  an  opening 
somewhere  it  will  climb  out,  although  it  would  be 
better  if  the  opening  were  near  the  floor. 

To  become 
acquainted 
with  the  smell 
of  a  substance, 
the  nerve  of  the 
87  Schneiderian 
membranemust 


come  in  contact 
with  some  of  its 
particles.  28How 
very  small  these 
particles  must 
be  is  shown  by 
tne  fact  that  a 
grain  of  musk 
perfumed  a 
room  for  nearly  forty  years  without  losing  any  appre- 
ciable weight.  29  In  cases  of  contagious  diseases,  the 
germs  of  that  disease  are  floating  through  the  air  and 
sometimes  Smell  can  detect  them,  although  none  of  the 
other  senses  can  recognize  their  presence.  We  often 
think  that  if  we  have  covered  up  a  disagreeable  odor  by 
a  pleasant  one  we  have  remedied  the  trouble.  This  is 


NERVES  OF  THE  Nosi> — RIGHI  SIDE. 

Nerve  of  special  sense  spread  out  through  the   Schnei- 
derian membrane. 


OX V GEN  THE  DISINFECTANT.  195 

a  mistake.  A  handkerchief  saturated  with  attar  of  roses 
might  prevent  Smell's  detecting  the  odor  of  perspira- 
tion, but  it  would  not  have  been  removed  by  the  per- 
fume. Nothing  would  do  that  but  a  bath.  3U  In  the  same 
way  many  of  our  so-called  disinfectants  only  cover 
up  poisonous  odors.  They  do  not  remedy  the  evils. 
The  best  and  only  perfectly  effectual  disinfectant  is 

oxygen,  Aura's  powerful  washing  preparation. 

Olfactory  Sense  is  not  only  a  guardian,  warning  of 
danger,  but  he  also  gives  pleasure  to  the  master  of 
the  house.  He  does  this  partly  by  the  assistance 
which  he  gives  to  Taste  in  appreciating  the  good 
qualities  of  foods ;  he  has  also  the  power  to  com- 
municate many  pleasant  things  himself.  He  under- 
stands the  language  of  the  flowers,  and  interprets  the 
sweet  whisperings  of  the  lily  and  rose,  and  of  the 
aromatic  balsams  and  pines,  and  repeats  over  and 
over  again  the  dying  song  of  the  new-mown  hay. 

Even  he  whose  ears  are  closed  to  melodious  sounds, 
whose  eyes  are  sealed  from  glimpses  of  blue  sky  and 
all  the  wonders  of  earth,  is  not  altogether  comfort- 
less,  for  the  wonders  of  air  can  yet  be  revealed  to 
him,  and  through  this  faithful  friend  and  guardian 
he  can  be  protected  from  some  evils  and  cheered  by 
some  blessings  that  come  to  him, 

"  Like  the  sweet  south  that  breathes 
Upon  a  bank  of  violets 
Stealing,  and  giving  odour." 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE   FACADE. 

EVERY  child  has  noticed  the  fanciful  resemblance 
between  the  front  of  a  house  and  the  human  face. 
That  child  surely  did,  who  seeing  a  fringe  of  icicles 
along  the  gable  asked,  "  Mamma,  who  banged  that 
house's  hair?"  'The  front  of  a  house  is  called  the 
fa£ade,  and  that  means  the  house's  face.  a  The 
facade  is  usually  more  finished  than  the  other  sides 
of  the  building.  8  It  may  be  ornamented  with  col- 
umns and  arches,  or  decorated  with  carvings,  and 
statues,  and  sculpture,  so  as  to  become  a  work  of  art ; 
to  see  which  people  will  travel  across  seas,  and  to  re- 
member which  will  be  a  joy  forever. 

James  Ferguson,  in  his  History  of  Architecture, 
says :  "  It  may  be  safely  asserted  that  a  building  is 
beautiful  and  perfect,  exactly  in  the  ratio  in  which 
the  same  amount  of  concealment  and  display  of  con- 
struction is  preserved,  and  where  the  same  symmetry 
is  shown  as  between  the  right  and  left  sides  of  the 
body.  In  short,  there  is  no  principle  involved  in  the 
structure  of  man  which  may  not  have  been  taken  as 
the  most  absolute  standard  of  excellence  in  architect- 
(196) 


WHA  T  IS  BE  A  UTY?  \ty 

ure."  Is  not  this  a  proof  that  we  have  wisely  called 
our  body  the  House  Beautiful?  It  is  often  difficult 
to  tell  what  it  is  that  makes  an  object  beautiful.  4  It 
is  not  any  one  thing,  but  a  union  of  many  quali- 
ties. In  the  highest  works  of  nature  we  find  symme- 
try a  most  striking  quality.  6  In  man  this  symmetry 
is  very  marked.  Each  outside  half  of  the  body  is 
like  the  other  half. 

6  Many  people  think  that  a  thing  is  beautiful  if  it 
is  useful.  It  is  true  that  when  nature  makes  any  of 
her  works  more  useful,  she  at  the  same  time  makes 
it  more  beautiful.  To  ornament  the  outside  merely, 
without  adding  something  practical,  is  not  to  make  a 
thing  beautiful.  7  We  might  think  that  the  founda- 
tions of  our  house  were  not  beautiful,  but  they  are 
useful,  and  more  than  that,  they  add  to  our  grace  and 
dignity.  The  very  way  in  which  the  skeleton  is  put 
together  makes  the  outside  of  the  house  look  well, 
and  enables  one  to  walk  with  grace.  "  The  cajt  and 
deer  can  'not  move  inelegantly.  The  dancing-master 
can  not  teach  a  badly  built  man  to  walk  well."  You 
will  be  better  able  to  appreciate  the  grace  and  con- 
venience of  the  foundations,  if  you  imagine  that  the 
bone  of  the  arm  might  have  been  made  square,  with 
sharp  corners,  and  bolted  on  at  the  shoulder.  Study 
the  formation  of  the  whole  body.  "  See  how  beauti- 
fully the  ribbon-like  muscles  taper  down  to  the  ten- 
dons which  are  inserted  into  the  bones,  giving  that 
charmingly  graceful  outline  which  all  admire.  See 
how  noiselessly  they  play  against  each  other  under  the 
flexible,  elastic  walls.  9  A  statue  can  give  us  the  same 


I  Qg  THE  HO  USE  BEA  U T1F  UL. 

beauty  of  outline,  but  it  can  not  give  us  beauty  oi 
motion. 

10  The  beauty  of  the  human  form  arises  from  its 
being  suited  to  the  needs  of  the  master.  ll  Did  you 
ever  read  of  a  world  of  chance?  I  have,  and  in  that 
world  things  happened,  having  no  intelligence  to 
direct  them,  as  in  this  world  which  God  governs. 
Men's  bodies  grew  in  strange  fashion.  Sometimes 
the  arms  were  square,  and  the  shoulders  like  a  flat- 
iron.  Sometimes  the  bones  were  solid  and  as  heavy 
as  lead.  Perhaps  the  head  was  the  shape  of  a  tea- 
box,  while  one  ear  was  on  the  back  of  the  head,  and 
the  other  upon  the  forehead.  One  eye  was  in  the 
middle  of  the  hand,  and  the  other  under  the  arm.  I 
fancy  that  no  one  of  us  would  like  to  live  in  such  a 
world,  nor  would  we  find  much  to  admire  in  a  house 
so  badly  and  irregularly  constructed.  ia  One  ought 
surely  never  to  find  fault  with  their  bodies,  so  beau« 
tifully  contrived,  and  made,  as  it  is  said,  in  the  image 
of  God.  To  be  beautiful,  things  should  be  appropri- 
ate. What  is  very  pretty  in  one  thing  is  not  at  all 
pretty  in  something  else.  I:l  The  peaceful  shepherd 
watching  his  flock  in  the  field  does  not  need  the 
strength  and  muscular  development  of  the  warrior. 

We  would  not  be  pleased  to  see  the  proportions 
of  a  man,  which  signify  14  energy  and  vigor,  given  in 
exchange  for  the  roundness  and  delicacy  of  the 
womanly  form  which  especially  typify  grace.  We 
even  expect  and  admire  a  different  form  in  youth 
from  that  of  age.  16  In  boyhood  we  look  for  activity 
and  swiftness ;  in  manhood,  for  dignity  and  strength, 


BE  A  UTY  OF  FORM .  l  gg 

18  111  the  wrestler  we  examine  the  strength  of  the 
arms  ;  in  the  racer  we  look  at  the  development  of  the 
legs,  and  call  each  beautiful  when  we  see  that  the 
body  is  adapted  to  its  work. 

17  But  this  fitness  for  its  special  work  is  not  enough 
to  account  for  all  of  our  admiration  for  the  House 
Beautiful,  the  human  form.  We  must  add  something 
which  we  can  not  see,  or  touch,  and  yet  which  makes 
itself  felt.  18  This  is  the  character  of  the  inhabitant. 
"  Every  spirit  makes  its  own  house,"  says  Emerson. 

If  the  man  who  lives  in  a  house  is  its  builder,  we  can 
form  something  of  an  opinion  about  him.  19  So  we 
can  tell  something  about  the  Man  Wonderful  who 
dwells  in  our  House  Beautiful  by  looking  at  its  out- 
side. ll>  We  can  tell  whether  he  is  gay  or  sad,  whether 
he  is  strong  or  weak,  whether  he  is  old  or  young. 

When  we  see  21  a  tender  babe  we  think  of  innocence 
and  helplessness.  The  figure  of  the  lad  or  youth  in- 
dicates hope  and  activity.  That  of  man  indicates 
strength,  thought,  and  courage.  That  of  woman,  del- 
icacy, modesty,  and  tenderness. 

But  to  be  wholly  beautiful  there  must  be  a  "  unity 
of  design.  That  is,  things  must  seem  to  belong  to- 
gether. As  a  philosopher  puts  it,  "  Short  legs,  which 
constrain  us  to  short,  mincing  steps  are  a  kind  of  per- 
sonal insult  to  the  owner,  and  long  stilts  put  him  at  a 
disadvantage,  and  force  him  to  stoop  to  the  level  of 
mankind." 

But,  "do  we  ever  speak  of  the  beauty  of  a  person 
whose  face  we  have  not  seen  ?  What  makes  the  fea- 
tures of  the  countenance  of  such  great  importance? 


200  THE  HOUSE  BE  A  UTIFUL. 

14  It  is  by  the  expression  of  the  face  that  we  judge  ol 
character.  We  form  an  opinion  of  the  spirit  by  the 
facade  of  its  house.  There  can  be  no  beauty  which 
does  not  seem  to  mean  something.  2S  We  even  talk 
of  things  that  have  no  life  as  if  they  had  mind.  We 
say  the  elm  expresses  protecting  strength ;  the  vine, 
clinging  weakness.  We  speak  of  the  flaunting  dahlia 
and  the  modest  violet,  as  if  their  peculiarities  were 
the  effect  of  thought,  or  the  expression  of  character. 

It  is  a  fact 26  that  a  certain  feeling  will  give  a  certain 
expression  to  the  face,  and  it  is  true  that  an  expres- 
sion of  face  will,  often,  create  a  corresponding  feel- 
ing. Try  it.  "7  Frown  and  pout  and  you  will  find 
your  mind  taking  on  the  feelings  which  your  face  ex- 
presses. Smile,  put  your  face  into  the  expression  of 
gentleness  or  mirth,  and  it  will  be  next  to  impossible 
to  be  cross  or  angry. 

The  28  attitudes  of  the  body  are  also  indicative  of 
different  feelings.  It  has  been  claimed  that  every 
feeling  which  can  be  expressed  by  29  language  can  also 
be  expressed  by  gesture  and  attitude. 

In  pantomime  a  whole  story  is  told  without  a 
spoken  word,  by  gesture  and  action  alone.  80  Statues 
which  were  chiselled  hundreds  of  years  ago  tell  their 
story  of  joy  or  grief  to  us,  as  plainly  as  they  did  to 
those  who  created  them,  or  who  first  looked  upon 
their  almost  speaking  figures  and  faces. 

Public  speakers  know  the  force  of  SI  gesture.  An 
audience  may  be  convulsed  with  laughter  simply  by  a 
grimace,  and  how  much  can  be  said  by  the  human 
hand.  It  beckons  to  approach,  it  warns  off,  it  de- 


THE  PACE  EXPRESSES  CHARACTER.  2O1 

fends,  it  threatens,  it  entreats,  it  caresses,  it  blesses. 
32  Much  of  the  beauty  of  the  Fagade  depends  upon 
the  form  of  the  head,  the  proportions  of  the  three 
divisions  of  the  face:  the  curve  of  the  eyebrows,  the 
character  of  the  nose,  the  size  and  form  of  the  mouth  ; 
the  roundness  or  squareness  of  the  chin  and  jaw,  and 
the  manner  in  which  the  head  is  set  upon  the  shoul- 
ders. 33  These  features,  when  the  eyes  are  in  repose, 
will  always  have  the  same  expression.  34  But  the  gen- 
eral expression  of  the  face  changes  under  the  influ- 
ence of  strong  feeling. 

We  may  see  35  the  brow  contracted  with  anger  or 
pain  ;  or  the  eyebrows  raised  in  attention,  or  admira- 
tion, or  astonishment.  3C  But  it  is  in  the  eye  that  the 
feelings  are  most  clearly  revealed.  The  man  looks  out 
of  his  windows  and  we  see  37  his  thoughts.  We  need 
no  words  to  tell  us  that  he  is  angry,  or  sad,  or  happy. 
He  can  tell  his  thoughts  in  words,  but  in  spite  of 
himself,  often,  they  are  written  on  his  face  and  figure. 
58  Attitude  and  gesture  are  the  unspoken  language  by 
which  the  face  and  form  express  the  character  and 
feelings  of  the  mind.  But  the  attitude  which  may  be 
admired  in  one  will  not  always  awaken  the  same  feel- 
ing, if  seen  in  another. 

39  The  gestures  and  tones  of  the  minister,  in  the  pul- 
pit, may  awaken  our  admiration,  but  when  closely  im- 
itated by  a  little  child  will  only  cause  a  smile. 

In  the  "coloring  of  our  house  there  is  a  unity. 
The  eyes,  hair,  complexion,  the  eyebrows,  all  have  a 
correspondence  and  a  meaning. 

We  judge  of  temperament,  tastes,  and  characteris- 


202  THE  HOUSE  BE  A  UTIFUL. 

tics  by  this  coloring,  and  we  have  an  opinion  whe- 
ther there  is  a  healthy  body  by  the  color  of  the 
skin. 

"  It  is  the  soundness  of  the  bones  that  ultimates  it- 
self  in  a  peach-bloom  complexion  ;  health  of  consti- 
tution that  makes  the  sparkle  and  power  of  the  eye." 

41  The  color  of  the  face  changes  with  the  feelings. 
Joy  brings  a  charming  glow,  modesty  gives  a  delicate 
flush,  while  4a  anger  dilates  the  capillaries  and  surges 
the  cheeks  with  a  dark,  unlovely  red,  or  it  contracts 
the  capillaries,  and  the  cheeks  grow  deadly  pale.  "  He 
was  white  with  rage,"  we  sometimes  say.  And  this 
is  a  more  deadly  form  of  that  baneful  passion  than 
that  which  covers  the  face  with  a  glow. 

43  But  color,  like  expression,  should  be  appropriate. 
The  color  of  the  baby  is  not  pleasing  on  the  face  of 
youth,  nor  the  complexion  of  man  charming  on  the 
face  of  woman.  44  Ruskin  says  we  do  not  appreciate 
the  sacredness  and  nobleness  of  color.  "  What  would 
the  world  become,"  asks  he,  "  if  the  blue  were  taken 
from  the  sky,  the  gold,  sunshine  and  verdure  from  the 
leaves,  the  crimson  from  the  blood  which  is  the  life 
of  man,  the  flush  from  the  cheek,  the  darkness  from 
the  eye,  the  radiance  from  the  hair?  If  they  could 
see,  but  for  an  instant,  white  human  creatures  living 
in  a  white  world,  they  would  soon  feel  what  they  owe 
to  color.  Of  all  gifts  to  man  color  is  the  holiest,  the 

most  divine,  the  most  solemn And  the  purest 

and  most  solemn  minds  are  those  which  love  color 
most." 

This  is  a  consoling  thought.     We  all  desire  to  be 


HEALTH  GIVES  CHARMS. 


203 


beautiful,  and  color  is  an  element  of  beauty.  45  Health 
gives  the  most  charming  tint,  and  health  is  largely 
within  our  grasp  if  we  obey  the  laws  which  have 
been  made  to  govern  our  bodies.  *8  No  matter  how 
irregular  our  features,  if  lighted  up  by  the  glowing 
hues  of  health,  they  will  have  a  charm.  Add  to  this 
the  beauty  of  expression,  the  shining  out  of  a  noble 
spirit,  and  we  can  well  spare  mere  beauty  of  outline. 
The  beautiful  soul  transfigures  the  plain  face.  Artists 
say,  no  face  is  perfectly  symmetrical ;  the  nose  is  not 
in  the  middle,  the  eyes  not  exactly  equal.  But  what 
does  it  matter  if  the  spirit  has  high  ambitions,  thinks 
great  thoughts,  plans  great  deeds  to  benefit  mankind. 
"  'Tis  no  matter  whether  his  nose  is  parallel  with  his 
spine,  as  it  ought  to  be,  or  whether  he  has  a  nose  at 
all,  whether  his  legs  are  straight,  or  whether  his  legs 
are  amputated,"  says  the  philosopher  Emerson. 47  Beau- 
ty lies  then  in  our  own  hands.  We  can  make  our  house 
what  we  will.  Face  and  figure  may  tell  of  low,  base 
thoughts  that  mar  the  most  perfect  features,  or  they 
may  portray  gentleness  and  love,  or  grandeur  of 
thought  and  ambition  that  will  ennoble  the  plainest 
face. 

48  Pausing  before  the  facade  of  St.  Peter's  at  Rome, 
or  that  of  the  beautiful  cathedral  at  Milan,  with  its 
5,000  marble  statues,  or  that  of  the  most  perfect  of 
all  cathedrals  at  Cologne,  with  its  magnificent  towers 
and  Gothic  architecture,  you  will  be  hushed  with  ad. 
miration  and  awe.  You  will  marvel  at  the  skill  of 
those  who  planned  and  builded  such  masterpieces, 
and  then  you  will  remember  that  they  are  dead,  and 


204  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

the  works  of  their  hands  are  gradually  crumbling 
into  decay.  49  But  the  House  Beautiful  can  grow  more 
and  more  lovely  while  the  inhabitant  every  day  and 
hour  carves  with  delicate  skill  some  fine  tracery  upon 
its  walls,  or  moulds  more  clearly  the  lines  which  show 
a  divine  beauty  and  harmony. 

60  Truly  no  work  of  man's  hand  can  equal  this  beau- 
tiful house,  the  work  of  Divine  Wisdom ;  and  we 
ought  to  praise  Him,  that  in  spite  of  all  inherited 
defects  of  constitution  or  configuration,  we  can,  by  the 
aid  of  His  will  working  in  us  to  do  His  pleasure,  re- 
mould our  features  into  an  expression  of  divine 
beauty. 

If  we  study  to  know  the  construction  of  this  our 
wondrous  dwelling-place,  and  to  learn  the  laws  which 
govern  its  workings  ;  if  then  with  religious  care  we 
obey  every  law  as  it  has  been  revealed  to  us  ;  if  we 
keep  from  our  minds  all  unlovely  feelings, all  ungen- 
erous emotions,  and  respect  ourselves  as  the  crea- 
tions of  God's  skill,  and  therefore  holy,  and  to  be 
sacredly  guarded  and  cherished  ;  if  we  entertain 
only  those  nobler  thoughts,  those  worthy  ambitions 
whose  moulding  touches  trace  in  ever  deepening 
lines  upon  the  face  an  expression  of  immortal  excel- 
lence, we  shall  be  rewarded  with  the  physical  health 
which  gives  beauty  of  outline  and  coloring,  with  the 
vigor  which  is  expressed  by  vivacity  and  strength, 
and  with  those  spiritual  graces  which  add  beauty  of 
expression,  and  then,  and  not  till  then,  will  our  bod- 
ies, in  the  highest  sense,  be  "Our  House  Beautiful." 


BRA  Ry1 

OF    TUB 

UNIVERSITY 
^CALlFO*Si> 


CHERUB.     (RAPUAEL.) 


PART     I  I. 

THE  MAN   WONDERFUL 


CHAPTER    I. 

THE   BABY. 

1  OUR  House  Beautiful  is  finished.  From  foundation 
to  cupola  it  is  complete.  We  have  gone  through  its 
various  rooms,  have  examined  their  construction  and 
purpose.  2We  have  admired  the  wisdom  and  skill 
that  planned  and  created  so  marvellous  a  dwelling. 
4  But,  as  we  look  at  it,  we  see  that  the  windows  are 
closed,  the  house  is  still.  Where  and  who  is  the  ten- 
ant? You  will  never  see  him.  Will  the  house  then 
never  be  inhabited  ?  4  Oh,  yes ;  but  you  will  never 
see  the  inhabitant.  6You  will  catch  glimpses  of  him 
peeping  out  of  the  windows ;  you  will  hear  him  speak, 
and  he  will  hear  you;  "you  will  become  acquainted 
with  his  likes  and  dislikes,  and,  through  his  actions, 
with  his  motives  and  thoughts ;  you  will  see  him  carry 
out  plans  which  he  has  made ;  you  will  please  or  of- 
fend him  ;  you  will  love  or  dislike  him ;  but  you  will 
never  see  him. 

7  The  Man  Wonderful  who  is  to  live  in  this  House 
Beautiful  'is  a  more  marvellous  study  than  is  his 
H  (205) 


2O6  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

dwelling.  He  will  take  possession  of  it,  and  little  by 
little  we  will  become  acquainted  with  him.  9  When 
first  he  comes  to  dwell  in  the  house,  he  is  a  stranger 
to  himself,  his  home,  and  to  the  world. 

His  house  is  very  small,  and  not  altogether  com- 
plete ;  10  for  there  are  no  white  soldiers  to  receive  his 
visitors,  and  in  his  dining-room  certain  attendants  are 
wanting.  His  guardians  of  the  Sense  family  are  not 
at  all  educated ;  ll  his  hundreds  of  muscular  servants 
are  untrained ;  and  he  12  is  incapable  of  giving  them 
any  commands.  13  At  times  the  windows  are  opened 
a  little,  but  the  Man  does  not  seem  to  look  out  of 
them.  14  Only  the  folding-doors  seem  to  be  in  per- 
fect working  order,  and,  judging  from  the  sounds  that 
issue  forth,  the  Man  Wonderful  is  principally  a  voice. 

16  No  young  creature  is  so  perfectly  helpless  as  the 
human  baby.  16  Calves  and  colts  can  run  as  soon  as 
born,  and  the  chick  of  the  hen  or  quail  will  often  run 
with  the  shell  on  its  back.  17  But  the  infant  Man,  if 
left  to  himself,  must  inevitably  perish.  18  He  can  not 
seek  his  food ;  he  can  not  even  turn  himself  over  un- 
aided ;  and  for  months  he  can  not  move  himself  from 
one  place  to  another.  19  He  is  simply  a  brute,  and 
superior  to  all  other  brutes  only  in  his  vocal  powers. 
They  are  his  only  20  prophecy  of  greatness.  Very 
slowly  he  will  gain  possession  of  his  powers,  but  by 
and  by  he  will  develop  that  which  will  make  us 
ashamed  that  we  have  called  him  a  brute. 

21  It  was  doubtless  the  design  of  the  Architect  that 
the  House  Beautiful  should  be  inhabited  until  it  grew 
old  and  gradually  fell  into  decay.  Then  the  Man 


THE  BABY. 

Wonderful  was  to  vacate  his  dwelling  and  move  into 
the  "  House  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the 
heavens." 

82  But,  too  often,  the  house  is  vacated  by  its  infant 
tenant  before  it  has  had  time  to  reach  its  full  devel- 
opment. M  We  may  find  some  apology  for  this,  be- 
cause nature  has  made  the  young  of  the  human  race 
so  helpless.  24  But  man  has  the  ad  vantage  over  brutes, 
in  that  he  has  reason  and  should  be  able  to  study  the 
laws  of  the  body  and  obey  them,  and  thus  largely 
w  prevent  premature  vacation  of  these  little  houses. 

*6  The  first  need  of  the  body  is  clothing.  *7  The 
woollen  garment  of  the  lamb  is  a  model  one.  It  fits 
perfectly ;  it  is  not  too  tight ;  it  does  not  bind  the 
body  in  any  place ;  it  does  not  interfere  with  entire 
freedom  of  limbs ;  it  is  soft,  and  loose,  and  warm ; 
there  is  no  superfluity  of  material.  These  are  the 
qualities  needed  in  the  clothing  of  the  infant. 
28  Bands  that  restrict  the  use  of  arms,  or  legs,  or 
stomach,  are  as  bad  for  the  baby  as  they  would  be 
for  the  lamb.  Babies  are  made  to  live  and  be  happy, 
'"*  and  are  always  as  happy  as  they  are  permitted  to 
be.  30  If  they  are  unhappy,  it  is  because  something  is 
wrong  in  their  dress,  their  food,  or  the  circumstances 
which  surround  them. 

31  We  all  know  that  there  are  persons  whose  very 
presence  does  us  good,  and  others  whose  personal  at- 
mosphere is  disagreeable.  This  invisible  something 
which  people  carry  about  with  them,  we  might  call 
personal  magnetism,  or  electricity.  It  matters  little 
\vhat  we  call  it ;  we  know  that  it  exists.  "The  baby 


2o8  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

feels  this  influence  very  keenly,  and  refuses  to  be  quiet 
with  some  people,  while  with  others,  equally  strange, 
it  seems  contented  and  happy.  If  held  too  long,  even 
by  one  whom  it  likes,  :<3  the  child's  own  electrical  con- 
ditions become  disturbed,  and  it  cries.  If  taken  by 
some  one  else,  or  put  down  where  it  can  recover  its 
own  electrical  state,  it  will  become  quiet.  84This  ex- 
plains why  a  stranger  can,  sometimes,  quiet  a  child, 
which  all  the  mother's  care  has  failed  to  still. 

35  The  next  demand  of  the  child  is  food,  which  na- 
ture has  provided  in  the  most  perfect  form.  36  Regu- 
lar habits  of  feeding  secure  health,  and  also  establish 
regular  habits  of  sleeping.  The  sleep  of  a  child  is  sa- 
cred. You,  who  now  know  so  well  what  is  going  on  in 
the  house  when  the  windows  are  closed  and  the  mas- 
ter is  asleep,  who  can  imagine  the  37busy  servants  go- 
ing swiftly  about  the  house  building  up,  or  repairing 
the  wear  and  tear  of  life,  38will  never  disturb  the 
sleep  of  a  child  by  needless  noise,  or  jolting,  or  rock- 
ing; but,  39  putting  it  away  in  a  quiet,  darkened,  well 
ventilated  room,  will  leave  it  to  the  gentle  care  of 

"  Tired  nature's  sweet  restorer,  balmy  sleep." 

40  But  now  we  begin  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  inhabi- 
tant of  the  house.  We  see  him  peep  from  the  windows 
41  He  is  beginning  to  get  acquainted  with  the  world  and 
with  himself.  His  little  fists  play  about  his  face  with 
no  intent  or  purpose,  but  always  with  the  result  of 
training  some  of  his  many  servants.  4a  As  yet  he  has 
no  consciousness  that  he  is  getting  acquainted  with 
himself,  43  even  his  voluntary  movements  are  made 


HE  SITS  ALONE.  2OQ 

as  unconsciously  as  the  working  of  his  lungs,  or  the 
beating  of  his  heart.  He  does  not  know  that  he 
ought  to  exercise  in  order  to  grow,  and  yet  he  keeps 
always  in  motion. 

Why  is  it  ?  44  The  burning  of  coal  produces  heat ; 
certain  chemical  changes  produce  the  invisible  agent 
known  as  electricity ;  and  we  can  believe  that  chang- 
ing food  into  tissues  of  the  body  may  produce  an- 
other intangible  agent,  the  source  of  this  constant 
activity  which  exists  in  the  young  of  all  animals. 

They  do  not  reason  about  it,  but  they  obey  the 
inborn  impulse  to  exercise,  because  without  it  they 
will  not  grow.  "  As  the  baby's  chief  business  is  to 
grow,  we  must  give  him  a  little  48 "  wholesome  neg- 
lect," and  a  little  judicious  education. 

47  First,  he  must  learn  to  sit  alone,  and  all  we  can 
do  is  to  put  him  on  the  floor,  prop  him  up  with  pil- 
lows and  leave  him  to  his  instincts.     After  a  time  we 
find  the  pillows  can  be  dispensed  with. 

48  After  many  tumbles  baby  learns  to  turn  himself 
over,  face  downward,  and  essays  to  crawl  like  a  snake. 
What    is   there    in  this   little  wriggling,    squirming, 
crawling  thing  to  foreshadow  the  grand,  kingly  man, 
standing  erect,  and  feeling  himself   akin  to  the  im- 
mortal ?   49  The  upward  tending  instinct  is  there,  how- 
ever, and  manifests  itself  by  impelling  50  the  child  to 
rise  on  all  fours ;  61  after  months  of  such  lowly  prog- 
ress, he  stands  on  his  feet  and  exults  in  his  success ; 
and  well  he  may,  for,  to  accomplish  it,  he  has  trained 
many  helpful  muscles  in  their  functions.     And  now 
papa  hears  the  delightful  news  that  "  baby  has  taken 
a  step  alone,  you  must  see  him." 


2io  THE  MAN   WONDERFUL. 

The  step  is  taken,  and  awakens  as  much  applause 
as  the  most  amazing  feat  of  the  acrobat,  and  deserves 
it  even  more. 

52  Walking  is  really  a  dangerous  performance,  and 
only  becomes  safe  by  practice.  Dr.  Holmes  calls 
walking,  53  "  perpetual  falling  with  perpetual  re- 
covery." 54  Running  is  still  more  difficult:  the  falling 
being  more  rapid,  the  recovery  must  also  be  more 
rapid,  and  there  is  a  point  of  time  when  both  feet  are 
off  the  ground  at  the  same  instant.  Remembering 
the  number  of  servants  that  must  be  trained,  and 
that  they  must  work  harmoniously,  we  shall  better 
appreciate  the  greatness  of  the  accomplishment  of 
the  feats  of  walking  and  running. 

We  often  say  that  a  child  is  getting  old  enough  to 
go  to  school  and  learn  something,  but  in  truth  55  a  per- 
son never  learns  in  any  later  five  years  of  life  as  much 
as  he  does  in  the  first  five.  68  Every  external  object  is 
his  teacher.  B7  The  gay  and  noisy  rattle,  which  he 
jingles  aimlessly,  is  teaching  his  eye,  and  ear,  and 
hand;  "the  doll  develops  his  powers  of  imitation; 
the  baby-jumper  prepares  the  way  for  walking ;  the 
rocking-horse  teaches  balancing  himself  in  a  sitting 
position  while  in  motion  ;  69  the  swing  adds  to  this  the 
continuing  of  motion  by  constantly  changing  the 
centre  of  gravity,  and  incidentally  develops  courage. 
The  skipping-rope  teaches,  not  only,  activity,  but  time, 
decision,  regularity,  promptness ;  rolling  the  hoop 
educates  eye,  and  hand,  and  judgment,  in  measuring 
the  strength  of  the  stroke  ;  60  playing  marbles  teaches 
weight,  and  the  application  of  force  with  a  definite 


MA S 7 'ER  OF  HIS  SER  VANTS.  2 1 1 

object  in  view ;  ball-playing  does  this  still  better  and 
gives  more  activity  to  the  muscles.  61  Repeating  a 
task  makes  it  easier  to  perform,  and  at  length 
the  movements  necessary  to  it  may  become  mechan- 
ical, or  as  we  say,  automatic.  After  a  few  months  of 
practice,  the  child  has  no  longer  to  think  of  his  feet 
in  walking ;  they  move  automatically,  and  it  is  the 
same  with  his  games.  They  have  educated  his  mus- 
cles, until  they  have  learned  to  do  their  work  without 
the  conscious  supervision  of  the  master  of  the  house. 

62The  child  is  becoming  master  of  his  servants. 
But  the  education  of  the  muscles  is  continued.  The 
ball-playing  becomes  more  scientific,  his  jumping  has 
a  more  definite  aim. 

To  these  teachers  may  be  added,  6S  calisthenics, 
which  add  the  delight  of  music,  and  education  in 
rhythmical  movements.  Here  the  feet  are  first  taught 
to  move  in  regular  sequence,  under  the  direction  of 
the  judgment.  In  this  we  have  much  of  the  aes- 
thetic, the  poetry  of  motion  and  attitude,  the  charm 
of  swift-changing  muscular  positions,  and  the  pictur- 
esqueness  of  kaleidoscope  groupings. 


CHAPTER   II. 

GIRLHOOD. 

WITHOUT  doubt  the  title,  "  The  Man  Wonderful," 
includes  also  "  The  Woman  Wonderful,"  and  as  the 
"  boy  is  father  of  the  man,"  the  girl  must  necessarily 
be  the  2 "  mother  of  the  woman."  Whatever  the 
woman  is  to  become,  must,  to  a  great  extent,  be  de- 
termined by  the  training  of  her  girlhood.  3  Her 
House  contains  the  same  rooms,  and  as  many  servants 
who  must  be  trained  if  they  are  to  be  made  of  use. 
The  same  laws  govern  her  body  as  govern  his.  4  It 
is  built  in  the  same  way,  needing  food,  and  sleep,  and 
air,  and  exercise,  in  order  to  "live,  thrive,  and  grow." 
She  has  the  same  need  of  a  strong,  healthy  body  as 
he  has,  and  can  obtain  it,  only  by  the  same  means. 
*  The  girl  who  has  not  a  strong,  well-developed  body 
and  skilfully  trained  muscles,  has  not  been  well  edu- 
cated. 6  Girls  learn  to  walk,  to  talk,  to  run  and  romp, 
just  as  boys  do,  and  can  learn  in  no  other  way.  But 
after  a  time  a  new  influence  is  brought  to  bear  upon 
them,  with  the  effect  of  curtailing  their  liberty  and 
substituting  indoor  quiet  for  outdoor  exercise.  "  It 
is  not  ladylike,"  is  the  motto  of  life,  T  and  girls  begin 
to  pride  themselves  upon  their  delicate  complexions 
and  slender  white  hands,  8  while  boys,  caring  nothing 

(212) 


GIRLHOOD.  213 

for  these  things,  continue  to  take  a  pride  in  what  they 
can  do,  not  in  how  they  look.  Which  is  the  nobler 
pride  ?  A  girl  can  be  strong  and  full  of  vigor  without 
necessarily  being  coarse  or  rough.  Freedom  from 
nature's  brown  color  does  not  signify  refinement  or 
culture.  Delicacy  does  not  necessarily  mean  weak- 
ness.  The  most  beautiful  9  hands  are  those  which 
can  do  something ;  not  merely  delicate  fancywork, 
but  real,  needed,  every-day  skilled  labor. 

"  Life  is  real, 
Life  is  earnest," 

"  and  the  greater  part  of  it  is  not  to  be  spent  in 
books.  Therefore,  girls  should  be  taught  those  things 
which  will  enable  them  to 

"  Be  up  and  doing, 

With  a  heart  for  any  fate, 
Still  achieving,  still  pursuing, 
Learn  to  labor  "  and  be  great. 

The  education  of  the  hands  is  often  postponed  too 
long.  ll  Very  little  people  can  be  taught  to  do  little 
tasks,  and  take  great  pleasure  in  doing  them.  12  Moth- 
ers often  puzzle  over  the  question  of  how  to  amuse 
their  children,  when  the  most  successful  way  to  ac- 
complish that  object  would  be  to  give  the  child  some- 
thing to  do.  Is  a  child  ever  so  happy  as  when  it  im- 
agines it  is  "  helping  mamma  "  ?  With  tiny  broom 
and  duster  the  girl  follows  from  room  to  room,  whisk- 
ing the  broom  and  flourishing  the  duster,  chattering 
blithely  all  the  while.  1S  A  little  careful  training  can 


214 


THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 


make  the  tiny  hands  capable  of  doing  the  work  well, 
and  the  useful  education  of  the  servants  is  begun. 
Playing  u  "  keep  house  "  is  not  so  attractive  as  the 
real  dish-washing ;  and  making  mud  pies  never  such 
"  fun "  as  baking  real  bread  or  cake.  It  may  try 
mamma's  patience  at  first,  but  her  reward  is  sure, 
when  the  clumsy  little  fingers  become  helpful  and 
skilful.  15  A  girl  of  eight  can  be  a  good  sweeper,  and 
duster  of  furniture,  can  set  table  and  wash  dishes  ; 
know  how  to  knit,  to  sew  a  plain  seam,  or  fasten  on 
a  button  ;  can  run  errands,  make  purchases,  knowing 
whether  she  receives  the  right  change  ;  can  wipe  up 
an  oil-cloth  or  "  straighten  a  room  "  without  interfer- 
ing with  school  duties  or  hours  of  play.  A  little  later 
she  can  be  taught  some  of  the  mysteries  of  cooking 
and  baking. 

16  A  girl  of  fourteen  should  be  able  to  darn  her  own 
stockings,  put  a  patch  neatly  into  a  worn  garment, 
and  begin  to  learn  the  art  of  cutting  out  garments. 
I  have  known  girls  of  less  years  who  could  do  beauti- 
ful work  upon  a  sewing-machine,  who  had  not  im- 
paired health  by  constant  indoor  labors,  but  who 
loved  to  romp  as  well  as  girls  who  had  not  such  ac- 
complishments. "  The  minutes  that  are  often  spent 
in  idle  personal  decoration  would  be  sufficient  for  a 
girl  to  gain  this  practical  knowledge.  And  who  can 
measure  the  advantage  it  may  be  to  her  in  later  life  ? 
18  The  daughters  of  the  Queen  of  England  have  found 
this  kind  of  manual  skill  most  valuable. 

Our  public  schools  should  be  arranged  with  a  view 
to  teaching  girls  those  things,  which,  as  housekeepers, 


CHRISTIAN  WOMAN  SQUEEZE  LIFE.  2\$ 

they  will  be  called  upon  to  do,  or  to  superintend,  all 
through  life.  An  hour  a  day,  three  or  more  days  in 
a  week,  would  suffice  to  instruct  them  in  mending, 
knitting,  repairing,  or  making  new  garments.  Cut- 
ting scientifically,  and  fitting  properly,  would  be  easily 
learned  where  they  were  gathered  in  classes  under  a 
competent  teacher ;  and  if  that  teacher  were  in- 
structed in  the  anatomy  and  physiology  of  the  hu- 
man body,  the  art  of  dressmaking  would  assume  a 
more  scientific  character,  and  natural,  healthful  figures 
would  be  the  aim  of  girls,  instead  of  the  deformities 
propagated  by  the  dressmaker — deformities  which 
called  forth  the  criticism  of  the  Chinese  woman,  who 
said  :  "  Christian  woman  say  wicked  to  squeeze  feet. 
Chinese  woman  squeeze  feet.  Very  wrong,  but  Chris- 
tian woman  squeeze  life.  Chinese  woman  no  squeeze 
life.  Life  here  " — indicating  the  delicate  waist  of  a 
fashion-plate  figure — "Christian  woman  squeeze  God's 
life." 

Girls  are  as  ambitious  to  be  helpful  as  are  boys. 
They  only  need  a  chance  to  prove  their  ability.  Many 
girls  who  are  thought  dull  in  books  would,  in  an  in- 
dustrial department  of  school,  develop  talents  of  which 
cheir  teachers  would  be  proud.  It  would  not  be  dif- 
ficult to  fit  up  a  room  where  cooking  could  be  practi- 
cally taught.  It  is  strange  that  we  practical  Amer- 
icans have  neglected  this  so  long.  What  use  is 
there  in  knowing  the  science  of  chemistry  if  we  do 
not  utilize  it  ?  The  cooks  of  a  nation  have  an  influ- 
ence on  its  health,  its  manners,  and  its  morals.  A 
knowledge  of  the  true  art  of  cookery  would  help  to 


2i6  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

solve  the  great  problem  of  intemperance.  It  is  fool- 
ish to  send  to  England  for  iron  when  our  hills  are  full 
of  iron  and  coal ;  it  is  foolish  to  raise  the  cotton  crop 
of  the  world  and  send  it  to  France  and  England  to 
be  manufactured  ;  and  it  is  equally  foolish  to  possess 
the  most  abundant  and  varied  food  supply  of  the 
world  and  be  obliged  to  send  to  France  for  skilled 
cooks. 

In  such  an  industrial  department  of  public  schools, 
sewing-machines,  and  writing-machines,  should  be  a 
part  of  school  furniture.  19A  girl  who  understands  the 
use  of  a  sewing-machine,  who  can  cut  dresses  by  rule, 
who  can  measure  and  cut  for  a  grown  person  or  a 
child,  has  a  feeling  of  self-dependence  that  is  worth 
more  than  a  moneyed  inheritance ;  and  one  who  can 
manipulate  a  writing-machine  has  a  business  educa- 
tion that  secures  her  against  lack  of  employment. 

Girls  have  20  ingenuity  which  should  be  cultivated. 
They  can  learn  to  use  tools  and  construct  many  things 
for  themselves  that,  perhaps,  otherwise  they  could  not 
have.  A  girl's  hand  has  just  as  many  muscles  as  a 
boy's,  and  they  are  just  as  capable  of  being  trained 
as  his.  21  It  may  not  be  well  to  train  them  just  alike 
in  all  respects,  but  what  harm  can  come  from  a  boy's 
learning  to  use  a  needle,  or  a  girl's  learning  to  drive  a 
nail  ?  Both  may  find  the  knowledge  of  great  value 
to  them  at  some  time. 

22  A  boy  should  not  be  laughed  at  because  he  trains 
himself  in  work  that  is  done  in  the  household,  nor 
should  a  girl  be  ridiculed  because  she  likes  the  more 
active  sports  and  work  of  life.  Girls  have  naturally 


DON'T  BE  DEPENDENT.  21? 

as  great  a  love  for  motion  as  boys,  and  need  it  as 
much  for  their  development.  Unfortunately,  the  bur- 
den  of  sex  is  laid  upon  them  unduly.  A  girl  ought 
never  to  be  called  a  "  Tom-boy  "  because  she  runs  and 
climbs  ;  or  a  boy  sneered  at  because  he  washes  dishes. 
"The  girl  obeys  a  God-given  impulse  of  activity  ;  the 
boy,  probably,  does  violence  to  his  own  wishes  in  or- 
der to  lighten  the  burden  of  mother  or  sister ;  and 
both  are  worthy  of  commendation. 

The  words  24  of  blame,  "  It  is  not  lady-like,"  or  "  It 
is  not  genteel,"  should  be  changed  to  "  It  is  not 
right,"  "  It  is  not  noble,"  and  then  we  should  be  bet- 
ter able  to  understand  whether  the  active  instincts  of 
the  girl  are  to  be  blamed. 

As  girls  25  approach  the  years  when  they  leave 
school  they  should  begin  to  think  of  the  actualities 
of  life.  At  that  age  a  boy  decides  upon  a  trade  or  a 
profession.  He  expects  to  take  care  of  himself. 
The  same  ambition  is  equally  praiseworthy  in  a  girl. 
86  There  is  no  more  reason  why  girls  should  plan  to 
be  dependent  than  that  boys  should  make  the  same 
plan.  2T  A  trade  is  a  fortune  to  a  girl,  as  well  as  to  a 
boy,  and  every  girl  should  be  able  to  do  something  so 
well  that  she  can  earn  her  own  bread,  and  that,  too, 
although  she  can  see  no  possibility  of  the  need  of 
such  skill ;  the  need  may  arise.  What  that  work  may 
be,  her  own  inclination  or  talent  can  decide. 

A  wide  28  variety  of  employments  are  open  to 
women,  from  dressmaking  to  doctoring,  from  teach- 
ing to  preaching.  Women  can  be  architects  and  plan 
dwellings  to  suit  the  need  of  the  housekeeper  better 


2l8  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

than  men.  They  can  decorate  and  furnish  houses  as 
a  business ;  they  can  learn  telegraphy,  stenography, 
nursing,  farming,  raising  of  small  fruits,  gardening, 
raising  of  bees,  poultry,  or  silk  culture.  They  can 
practice  law,  make  bonnets  or  books,  but  in  whatever 
line  they  labor  the  skilled  hand  is  desirable.  Even  in 
the  professions  a  knowledge  of  manual  labor  is  ad- 
vantageous. That  novelist  can  best  touch  the  heart 
of  the  people,  who  knows  in  reality  what  are  the 
trials  and  labor  of  the  people.  The  minister  can 
minister  more  skilfully  if  he  can  meet  the  working 
folks  on  their  own  level. 

A  knowledge  of  29  practical  work  broadens  the 
thoughts,  increases  the  sympathies,  gives  a  wider 
horizon,  and  adds  to  the  value  of  the  individual.  30  A 
girl  who  can  play  on  the  piano  and  cook  beefsteak 
properly,  is  more  of  a  woman  than  one  who  can  do 
only  one  of  these  two  things.  A  girl,  as  well  as  a 
boy,  should  desire  to  be  a  ruler  of  the  material  forces 
of  the  world,  and  not  to  be  ruled  by  them.  31  She 
should  be  ambitious  to  be  a  producer,  and  not  merely 
a  consumer.  She  should  exist  to  make  herself  felt, 
not  merely  to  be  looked  at ;  to  be  praised  for  the 
work  which  she  does,  instead  of  being  wondered  at 
for  the  work  that  is  done  for  her. 

To  be  useful  is  more  womanly  than  to  be  idle.  To 
have  practical  accomplishments  is  to  be  endowed  with 
gifts  which  shall  unlock  many  gates  of  happiness. 
12  Read  Solomon's  picture  of  a  virtuous  woman,  in  the 
last  chapter  of  Proverbs,  and  see  what  a  price  he  set 
upon  skilled  labor. 


CHORISTER  BOYS.    (ANDERSON.) 


CHAPTER  III. 

BOYHOOD. 

1  THERE  is  an  inborn  pleasure  in  accomplishing 
something,  manifested  in  the  child  by  its  playing  at 
work,  and,  later,  by  its  attempting  to  do  actual  work. 
The  wagon  made  of  a  match-box,  mounted  on  wheels 
of  spools,  gives  more  real  satisfaction  than  the  most 
expensive  boughten  express-wagon,  however  gayly 
painted.  a  This  desire  to  do,  should  be  carefully  cul- 
tivated by  parent,  guardian,  and  teacher. 

The  world  of  books  is  very  charming,  and  the 
world  of  work  no  less  so.  8  The  lives  of  the  majority 
of  people  must  be  spent  in  doing  rather  than  in  study- 
ing. Theory  is  good,  but  practice  is  better ;  4  and  a 
valuable  addition  to  all  our  schools  would  be  an  in- 
dustrial department,  where  pupils  could  spend  a  part 
of  each  day  in  the  practical  application  of  the  theories 
taught  in  their  books.  6  Such  schools  have  been  found 
of  immense  value  in  Germany,  and  would  surely  be 
no  less  so  in  a  country  which  boasts  of  being  a  land 
of  doers,  as  does  America. 

8  Hours  of  work  alternating  with  hours  of  study, 
give  a  more  symmetrical  development  of  mind  and 
body,  and  the  •'  boy  does  not  need  to  leave  school  so 
young  in  order  to  learn  his  trade.  "  He  learns  the 
use  of  tools,  and  working  in  wood  and  metals.  At 

(219) 


220  THE  MAN   WONDERFUL. 

the  same  time  that  he  is  studying  the  science  of 
Natural  Philosophy  and  the  laws  which  govern  wood 
and  metals,  '  he  is  becoming  a  skilled  workman,  and 
not  the  follower  of  a  routine.  With  such  a  school 
system,  10  there  would  be  less  need  for  compulsory 
laws  of  education.  Parents,  knowing  that  their  chil- 
dren were  learning  trades  while  still  "  in  school, 
would  see  no  reason  for  shortening  their  school-days, 
but,  on  the  contrary,  would  find  every  reason  for 
lengthening  them. 

These  industrial  departments  can  unite  the  import- 
ant teachings  for  both  boys  and  girls  and  need  not 
confine  either  sex  to  one  department  alone.  12  Girls 
can  learn  to  use  tools ;  under  the  modest,  timid 
grace  of  the  maiden  may  hide  the  skill  of  the  sculp- 
tor ;  and  the  13  boy  may  have  a  talent  which  may 
make  him  a  cook  able  to  command  a  salary  equal  to 
that  received  by  a  member  of  Congress. 

14  True  education  is  a  leading  forth  of  the  natural 
talents  of  the  individual,  not  the  cramming  with  for- 
eign material.  To  educate,  then,  is  to  16  develop  both 
mind  and  body.  ie  The  ancient  Greeks,  who  believed 
man  to  have  but  the  one  nature,  cultivated  the  physi- 
cal as  a  means  of  gaining  mental  and  moral  power. 

17  To  cultivate  the  mind  and  neglect  the  body,  is  to 
dull  the  tools  which  the  mind  must  use.  18  To  culti- 
vate the  body  and  neglect  the  mind,  is  to  increase 
the  strength  and  power  of  the  tool,  and  weaken  the 
force  which  should  guide  and  direct  it. 

19  In  our  colleges  are  young  men  who  are  pos- 
sessed with  $n  idea  of  championship ;  they  are  not 


BOYHOOD.  221 

striving  to  develop  a  symmetrical  body,  beautifully 
poised  and  perfectly  balanced,  in  the  hope  that  it  will 
be  a  20  support  to  their  higher  powers  of  mind,  a 
foundation  for  the  most  useful  mental  and  spiritual 
manhood ;  21  but  they  are  thinking  how  they  can  ac- 
quire that  development  of  arms  and  legs  which  shall 
render  their  picked  "  nine  "  the  superior  of  any  other 
college  "  nine." 

It  is  true,  no  doubt,  that  often  the  effort  to  rebound 
from  the  inertness  of  the  student  leads  to  the  other 
extreme,  of  over-cultivation  of  the  body.  aa  The 
golden  mean  would  be  better  found  if  mental  and 
physical  education  were  carried  on  together.  a9  The 
separation  has  evil  results,  making,  on  the  one  hand, 
the  mere  student  a  weak,  nervous  dyspeptic;  and 
on  the  other,  the  gymnast  a  mere  supple  animal,  and 
developing  a  low  standard  of  manhood. 

84  For  purposes  even  of  war  or  dominion,  there  is 
no  longer  need  of  extreme  development  of  physical 
strength.  "  Through  false  methods  of  development 
there  is  positive  injury  to  the  body. 

In  the  rowing  contest,  for  example,  the  strength  is 
so  long  and  powerfully  exerted  that  exhaustion  fol- 
lows. The  arms,  back,  and  legs  are  not  the  muscles 
that  suffer  serious  injury,  for  they  can  rest  after  the 
contest ;  but  there  is  a  muscle  which  has  been  called 
upon  to  do  the  largest  and  hardest  share  of  the  work, 
and  has  had  no  chance  to  rest.  M  It  is  the  Engine,  the 
heart,  which  has  forced  the  life-giving  fluid  through 
the  whole  system  during  the  strenuous  efforts  of  the 
whole  muscular  system.  "  It  has  been  compelled  to 

15 


222  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

contract  more  rapidly,  and  also  with  increased  force, 
in  order  to  overcome  the  great  tension  of  the  actively- 
working  muscles. 

88  Under  such  a  drill,  the  arms  would  increase  in 
size,  or,  as  we  say,  become  hypertrophied  ;  and  the 
same  is  true  of  the  heart.  a9  For  a  time  it  grows 
larger  and  stronger ;  but  there  comes  a  limit  to  its 
growth  and  to  the  power  of  tension  in  its  fibres,  and 
when  this  point  has  been  reached  30  there  begins  a  de- 
generation of  its  fibres.  It  loses  its  tonicity,  and  be- 
comes 81  a  weak  heart,  and  the  person  owning  it  has 
lost  a  great  portion  of  his  physical  manhood,  and, 
what  is  far  more  serious,  can  never  wholly  regain  it. 
He  may  succeed  in  ordinary  efforts;  but,  as  to  all 
great  physical  exertion,  he  is  an  invalid.  32  He  may 
not  be  conscious  of  it,  and  may  start  upon  a  contest 
with  all  his  former  buoyancy,  but  before  the  struggle 
is  ended  he  finds  his  best  efforts  are  fruitless  of  result. 
The  loss  of  heart-power  may  be  progressive,  and  in  a 
few  years  his  friends  are  surprised  to  find  him  3*  suf- 
fering with  some  chronic  disorder,  and  liable  to  lung 
trouble.  A  slight  inflammation  of  the  lungs  may 
prove  fatal,  simply  because  his  heart  can  not  perform 
its  duty,  and  he  dies  a  martyr  to  injudicious  physical 
training. 

34  Military  drill  is  a  method  of  physical  develop, 
ment  which  can  be  made  beneficial  to  students,  pro- 
fessors, 'and  to  the  State,  and  which  can,  scarcely,  be 
made  responsible  for  the  same  injurious  results. 
86  Nearly  all  of  the  muscles  are  brought  into  play,  and 
an  erect  and  noble  bearing  is  taught.  36  The  disci- 


MILITARY  DRILL   VALUABLE.  22$ 

pline  of  prompt  obedience  is  a  valuable  mental  drill, 
and  the  *7  mischievous  results  which  spring  from  emu- 
lation are  not  felt.  38  In  actual  life  occasions  may 
arise  where  in  panic,  excitement,  or  the  collecting  of 
mobs,  there  will  be  need  of  men  who  can  command 
men  as  soldiers,  and  need  of  men  who,  as  soldiers, 
can  obey.  Such  occasions  will  continue  to  arise,  and 
well  will  it  be  for  the  security  of  the  country  89  when 
her  young  men  know  how  to  perform  the  duties  of 
soldiers  in  order  that  there  may  be  neither  mobs  nor 
wars. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

MANHOOD. 

M/>\  at  first,  like  other  animals,  knew  no  other  use 
for  bis  mouth  than  to  make  it  a  receptacle  for  food, 
and  an  outlet  for  cries  of  need  and  pain.  Doubtless, 
man  had  in  the  beginning  the  same  perfect  vocal 
organs  as  now,  but  was  ignorant  of  their  use.  .  Ideas 
and  thoughts  he  had  not,  but  as  time  passed  on  and 
his  mental  powers  developed,  and  he  began  to  think, 
he  did  not  know  how  to  express  his  thoughts.  He 
would  first  express  them  by  grunts,  signs,  and  ges- 
tures, as  do  the  Indians,  when  they  meet  those  whose 
language  they  can  not  speak.  After  a  time,  these 
grunts  would  begin  to  differ  from  each  other,  and 
eventually  a  certain  sound  would  have  a  permanent 
meaning.  These  sounds,  at  first  made  wholly  in  the 
throat,  would  gradually  be  modified  by  the  action  of 
other  organs,  until  at  last  the  tongue  and  lips  would 
unite  with  the  larynx  in  making  many  combinations 
of  vocal  sounds.  In  this  way,  slowly  and  laboriously, 
a  language  could  be  invented  which  would  be  in- 
creased by  each  new  experience. 

The  mocking-bird  imitates  every  sound  it  hears, 
and  the  monkey  tries  to  do  whatever  he  sees  done, 
(224) 


MANHOOD.  2  J5 

The  human  animal  combines  both  of  these  inclina- 
tions by  repeating  the  sound  he  hears  and  performing 
the  actions  he  sees,  so  that  his  young  easily  learn  to 
talk  and  to  do  most  things  done  by  the  parent. 

So  much  has  been  accomplished  by  the  Man  Won- 
derful in  all  directions,  that  a  lifetime  is  now  too 
short  for  one  person  to  learn  all  that  man  is  able  to 
do,  or  to  understand  all  that  the  vocal  organs  are 
capable  to  pronounce.  There  must  be  a  selection, 
and  this  should  be  of  those  things  which  are  most 
worthy  of  being  learned. 

Since  there  are  many  languages,  and  all  can  not  be 
learned,  let  the  youth  be  taught  those  which  will  be 
of  the  most  practical  benefit.  His  native  language  in 
perfection  should  be  his  chief  study ;  to  speak  it  cor- 
rectly and  fluently,  to  read  it  with  expression,  and  to 
write  it  with  ease.  To  speak  and  read,  so  as  to  give 
the  most  pleasure  to  hearers,  a  proper  use  of  the 
vocal  organs  is  needful.  Among  Americans  there  is 
a  tendency,  both  in  conversation  and  in  public  speak- 
ing, to  pitch  the  voice  too  high,  destroying  its  musical 
qualities  and  rasping  the  ears  of  hearers.  Orators  fancy 
that  to  be  heard  they  must  scream  and  strain  their 
throats,  when,  in  fact,  a  lower  tone,  if  the  words  are 
distinctly  articulated,  will  be  more  easily  understood, 
even  by  those  at  a  distance.  It  is  a  mistake  to  scream 
in  the  ears  of  deaf  persons.  It  is  distinctness  of  ar- 
ticulation that  is  needed,  not  a  high  pitch.  The 
voice  is  really  weakened  instead  of  being  made  more 
powerful  by  pitching  it  high.  These  vocal  organs 

g> 


which  the  Great  Architect  has  given  us  should  be  usct' 


226  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

to  bring  to  us  the  most  good  and  to  give  the  greatest 
pleasure  to  others.  What  wonders  they  can  perform, 
trilling  like  a  bird,  bringing  tears  by  the  pathos  oi 
their  tones,  speaking  in  thunder  or  tenderly  beseech- 
ing. And  how  marvellous  is  the  Man  Wonderful 
in  all  his  attributes.  Strength,  majesty,  power,  do- 
minion, are  his,  and  yet,  how  feeble  is  his  greatest 
achievement  compared  with  that  of  his  Maker. 
What  strange  contrasts  are  there  in  his  make. 

"  How  poor,  how  rich,  how  abject,  how  august, 
How  complicate,  how  wonderful  is  man  ! 
How  passing  wonder  He  vvho  made  him  such. 
Who  centred  in  his  make  such  strange  extremes 
From  different  natures  marvellously  mixed ; 
Connection  exquisite  of  distant  worlds, 
Distinguished  link  in  being's  endless  chain, 
Midway  from  nothing  to  a  deity — 
A  being  ethereal,  sullied  and  absorpt ; 
Though  sullied  and  dishonored,  still  divine, 
Dim  miniature  of  greatness  absolute, 
An  heir  of  glory,  a  frail  child  of  dust, 
Helpless  immortal,  insect  infinite, 
A  worm,  a  God,  I  tremble  at  myself, 
And  in  myself  am  lost.     At  home  a  stranger, 
Thought  wanders  up  and  down,  surprised,  aghast, 
And  wondering  at  her  own.     How  reason  reels. 
Oh,  what  a  miracle  to  man  is  man." 

AS    HUNTER. 

How  do  you  suppose  that  sheep  and  cows  know 
that  grass  is  food  ?  If  you  were  to  ask  a  man  of  sci- 
ence he  would  tell  you  that  it  is  by  instinct.  And 
then  you  would  probably  ask,  what  is  instinct  ?  One 


ANIMAL  INSTINCT. 

of  the  hardest  things  in  the  world  is  to  give  a  defini 
tion  of  a  word,  even  though  we  may  understand  it. 
Instinct  is  the  knowledge  animals  have  that  does 
not  come  to  them  by  any  process  of  thought  or  rea- 
son. They  do  not  stop  and  think,  "  Now  this  is  what 
I  want  to  do,  and  such  will  be  the  best  way  to  do  it." 
But  at  once,  without  thought,  they  do  it  and  in  the 
very  best  way.  They  are  guided  by  a  divine  impulse 
implanted  in  their  very  nature.  It  is  by  instinct  that 
the  bird  builds  its  nest.  By  instinct  it  flies  south 
when  winter  approaches.  By  instinct  the  young  of 
all  animals  seek  their  first  food,  and  by  instinct  they 
are  directed  to  a  change  of  diet  when  they  are  older. 
The  members  of  one  family  have  always  the  same  in- 
stincts.  Sheep  eat  grass  and  wolves  eat  sheep,  and 
never  is  the  case  reversed.  Sheep  never  dine  on 
wolves,  or  wolves  on  grass. 

Man  possesses  in  less  degree  this  faculty  of  instinct, 
but  he  has  other  endowments  which  make  up  for  this 
deficiency.  In  his  savage  state  man  lives  among  wild 
beasts,  and  is  as  wild  and  ferocious  as  they.  Like 
them  he  hunts  his  food  as  prey.  But  as  he  can  not 
overpower  all  of  them  by  superior  strength,  he  must 
needs  bring  his  reason  to  his  aid,  and  this  teaches  him 
to  use  stratagem. 

He  takes  lessons  of  his  brute  companions,  but  he 
improves  on  their  methods.  The  members  of  the  cat 
family  steal  upon  their  prey.  Man,  too,  creeps  upon 
his  game,  but  meanwhile  he  studies  them,  and  learns 
their  habits  and  uses  this  knowledge  to  help  him 
to  success.  He  sees  the  trap  of  the  spider  or  of  the 


228  THE  MAN   WONDERFUL. 

ant-lion,  and  he,  too,  invents  traps,  not  of  one  but 
of  many  kinds. 

He  lures  the  wild  duck  by  decoys  in  the  shape  of 
wooden  ducks  placed  inside  his  trap.  He  deceives 
the  quail  by  the  clear  whistle  of  the  "  Bob  White." 
He  makes  pitfalls  for  the  unwieldy  bear,  and  with  las- 
soes catches  the  swift,  wild  horse. 

Animals  hunt  because  they  are  hungry.  Man  hunts 
not  only  because  of  hunger,  but  because  he  takes  pride 
in  overcoming,  by  his  skill,  the  strength  and  wariness 
of  animals.  He  feels  a  pride  in  his  success  which  an- 
imals do  not  feel. 

He  wears  the  feathers  of  eagles  as  a  headdress,  and 
the  claws  of  wild  beasts  as  jewels.  And  his  greatest 
pride  is  to  display  the  skin  of  a  leopard  or  tiger  that 
he  has  himself  killed. 

When  the  animal  has  satisfied  hunger  it  slays  no 
more  ;  but  man  continues  to  kill,  that  he  may  boast  of 
his  murderous  deeds. 

He  cultivates  his  endurance,  educates  his  eyes  and 
ears,  and  increases  his  ability  to  take  life  by  inventing 
weapons  of  death.  He  learns  the  panther's  cunning, 
and  adds  to  it  the  sharp  edge  of  the  tomahawk.  He 
disciplines  himself  in  running,  and  then  adds  to  his 
fleetness  the  swiftness  of  the  arrow  and  the  whizzing 
lasso. 

He  studies  the  habits  and  peculiarities  of  animals, 
and  uses  his  knowledge  to  bring  them  within  his 
reach.  He  can  not  run  as  fast  as  the  antelope,  but 
knowing  the  animal's  curiosity,  he  ties  a  bit  of  cloth 
to  a  stick,  and  hiding  himself  where  the  wind  will 


AS  HUNTER.  22£ 

blow  his  scent  away  from  the  antelope,  waits  fox  him 
to  come  to  examine  his  bait,  and  shoots  him. 

Not  only  does  man  invent  weapons  to  help  him 
hunt,  but  he  employs  the  natural  hunting  qualifica- 
tions of  other  animals  to  aid  him.  The  hound  with 
his  keen  scent  can  track  the  deer,  the  greyhound  with 
his  fleet  foot  can  overtake,  and  seizing  him  at  his  vul- 
nerable point,  hamstrings  him,  and  thus  renders  him 
an  easy  prey  to  the  hunter.  The  yellow  hound  tracks 
the  game  by  scent  alone,  the  greyhound  by  sight 
alone,  and  when  he  can  not  longer  see  the  game,  is 
worthless  for  pursuing.  But  the  hunter  with  his 
keen,  educated  eye,  and  his  close  powers  of  observa- 
tion, unaided  by  scent,  will  observe  every  broken 
twig  and  every  overturned  leaf ;  note  every  circum- 
stance which  will  determine  the  course  of  the  deer, 
and  of  the  three,  will  be  most  sure  to  track  the  game, 
and  to  secure  it  when  brought  to  bay. 

Man  has  not  the  speed  of  the  deer,  but  has  greater 
endurance,  especially  when  aided  by  his  wisdom. 
The  hunter  chases  the  deer,  and  while  refraining  from 
more  than  sipping  water  at  the  streams,  allows  the 
poor,  hunted  animal  to  drink  his  fill,  and  he  thus  is 
made  less  active  and  enduring  by  the  excess  of  fluid 
taken.  The  hunter,  fresh  as  at  the  start,  keeps  on 
hour  after  hour,  until  the  animal  sinks  with  fatigue 
and  falls  a  certain  prey. 

He  devises  traps  for  catching  the  feathery  tribe, 
and  educates  the  falcon  to  aid  him  in  the  chase.  He 
does  not  stop  here,  but  enters  the  watery  element,  and 
contests  his  cunning  with  the  fish,  and  captures  even 
the  shark  and  the  mammoth,  mammal  whale. 


230  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

Thus  we  see  that  of  all  animals  man  is  the  greatest 
hunter.  He  is,  of  all,  the  most  courageous,  needing 
not  the  stimulus  of  hunger  to  make  him  face  danger 
or  death.  He  is  the  most  cunning,  his  intellect  mak 
ing  use  even  of  the  instincts  of  animals  to  bring  them 
into  his  power.  His  educated  eye  is  of  more  use  than 
the  keen  scent  of  the  foxhound  or  the  swift  foot  of 
the  greyhound.  His  educated  reason  renders  him  su- 
perior to  the  fleet  antelope  and  deer,  and  his  inven- 
tions make  him  able  to  combat  successfully  with  the 
fierce  inhabitants  of  wood,  or  sea,  or  jungle. 

AS  TAMER. 

When  you  have  been  playing  with  your  dog  or 
your  cat  did  you  ever  think  that  they  once  were  wild 
animals  ?  Of  course  I  do  not  mean  that  especial  cat 
or  dog,  but  that  ages  ago  all  of  the  canine,  or  feline, 
families  were  wild.  How,  then,  did  these  particular 
members  become  so  tame  and  gentle  ?  Let  me  ask 
you  another  question,  What  makes  the  ox  and  horse 
willing  to  work  for  you  and  obey  you  ?  Were  they 
ever  wild  ?  Yes,  all  of  our  domestic  animals  were 
once  wild  and  shunned  the  face  of  man.  But  man  by 
superior  wisdom  has  made  them,  not  only  his  com- 
panions,  but  his  friends  and  assistants.  By  associat- 
ing with  man  many  of  their  characteristics  have 
changed.  They  are  no  longer  so  fleet,  so  ferocious, 
so  unworthy  of  trust,  but  have  become  mild,  gentle, 
trusty,  and  useful.  Did  you  ever  read  that  description 
of  a  horse  in  the  book  of  Job  ? 


AS  TAMER.  231 

"  Hast  thou  given  the  horse  strength  ? 
Hast  thou  clothed  his  neck  with  thunder  ? 
Canst  thou  make  him  afraid  as  a  grasshopper? 
The  glory  of  his  nostrils  is  terrible, 
He  paweth  in  the  valley  and  rejoiceth  in  his  strength ; 
He  goeth  on  to  meet  the  armed  men." 

Vet  this  fierce,  strong,  mighty  creature  has  become 
the  willing  and  affectionate  servant  of  man.  He  is 
harnessed  and  made  to  bear  his  burdens ;  to  prepare 
the  ground  for  crops ;  to  bear  upon  his  back  the  joy- 
ous rider ;  or  to  drag  after  him  safely  a  group  of 
laughing  children.  He  is  tamed,  subjugated. 

The  cat,  who  is  a  cousin  of  the  tiger  and  the  pan- 
ther and  the  lion,  is  our  household  pet.  The  dog, 
cousin  to  the  wolf,  shares  our  sports  as  well  as  our 
pleasures.  The  ox  and  the  sheep  are  so  tame  that  we 
rind  it  difficult  to  believe  that  they  were  ever  wild. 
They  furnish  us  food  and  clothing.  They  toil  for  us, 
and  are  cared  for  by  us.  The  elephant,  who  in  his 
wild  state  is  so  fierce  and  dangerous,  becomes  obedi- 
ent to  man,  and  not  only  works  for  him  but  tenderly 
watches  over  his  keeper's  little  child,  obeying  the  in- 
fant's voice  as  if  ignorant  of  the  weakness  of  the 
child  and  his  own  monstrous  strength.  The  camel  is 
made  the  burden-bearer  of  the  merchant  over  desert 
wastes,  and  in  Arctic  snows  the  reindeer  is  harnessed 
to  the  sledge  of  the  native.  Boys  begin  very  early 
to  tame  animals,  and  their  numerous  pets  show  their 
skill.  Not  only  are  cats,  dogs,  or  chickens  made  pets, 
but  squirrels,  raccoons,  mice,  and  the  young  of  fiercer 
animals  are  subdued  by  the  juvenile  man. 


232  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

But  men  are  not  content  merely  to  tame  those 
whom  he  can  make  use  of  in  his  work,  but  he  loves 
to  show  his  superiority  by  subduing  the  wildest  and 
most  ferocious.  You  have  seen  men  sitting  in  cages 
of  wild  animals,  tigers,  leopards,  or  lions,  and  have 
seen  how  they  were  not  afraid,  but  had  really  terrified 
even  the  king  of  beasts.  The  venomous  serpent  is 
made  to  obey  the  commands  of  his  ancient  enemy, 
man,  and  has  even  been  taught  to  dance  in  time  to 
music.  Is  man  the  only  one  among  all  created  beings 
who  enslaves  or  makes  use  of  his  fellow-creatures  ? 
O,  no !  The  cuckoo  lays  her  egg  in  the  nest  of 
other  birds,  and  thus  makes  them  feed  her  young, 
often  to  the  neglect  of  their  own.  She  does  this,  it 
may  be,  because  she  is  cowardly  or  lazy,  but  she  does 
it.  She  makes  the  other  bird  serve  her  purpose.  The 
great  red  ants,  called  Amazons,  make  slaves  of  the 
young  females  of  the  black  ants,  and  make  them  act 
as  nurses.  Man  is  not  the  only  captor.  But  he  cap- 
tures the  greatest  number,  and  not  only  tames  those 
whom  he  can  use,  but  he  gratifies  his  pride  by  over- 
coming those  whom  he  can  never  trust  to  work  for 
him,  as  is  the  case  with  the  lion  and  tiger.  Those 
whom  he  has  trained  to  be  his  faithful  servants  in  dif- 
ferent parts  of  the  world  are  the  horse,  the  ox,  the 
ass,  the  elephant,  camel,  dog,  goat,  reindeer,  buffalo, 
zebra,  sheep,  and  if  you  wish  to  make  up  a  round 
dozen  you  might  add  woman  to  the  list,  for  I  have 
seen,  in  Belgium,  a  woman  and  a  cow  hitched  toge- 
ther plowing  in  the  field,  and  I  have  also  seen 
women  and  dogs,  in  Prussia,  working  together  to  pull 


AS  FARMER. 


233 


a  wagon.  But  if  this  adds  to  the  number  of  man's 
captives  I  do  not  think  it  adds  either  to  his  courage 
or  his  credit,  and  yet  it  speaks  well  for  the  human 
race,  for  it  shows  a  willingness  on  the  part  of  the 
mother  to  toil  and  to  endure  and  to  suffer,  if  need  be, 
for  the  support  of  her  young.  It  is  a  noble  charac- 
teristic of  the  human  family  that  they  will  work  and 
labor  for  each  other's  good.  The  suffering  of  the  few 
rails  forth  the  sympathy  and  assistance  of  the  many. 

AS   FARMER. 

Did  you  ever  try  to  satisfy  yourself  by  reflection 
how  man  became  a  farmer  ?  If  he  lived  upon  the 
fruits  and  seeds  of  plants  in  the  summer,  and  upon 
the  flesh  of  wild  animals  in  winter,  he  might  have  got 
along  for  a  time ;  but  when  his  numbers  increased 
to  such  an  extent  that  food  failed,  he  must  .do  some- 
thing. 

Did  he  then  invent  the  bow  and  arrow  before  he 
did  the  rude  hoe  which  he  used  for  digging  up  roots  ? 
It  is  certain  that  at  some  time  he  invented  tools 
for  tilling  the  soil,  and  for  clearing  away  the  forests. 
When  he  learned  that  he  could  direct  the  force  of 
other  animals,  he  made  harnesses  for  them,  and 
invented  plows  and  harrows.  As  we  look  back  we 
can  see  that  his  progress  was  extremely  slow.  In 
some  countries  more  so  than  in  others.  But  in  all 
countries  there  has  been  a  continual  progress.  Even 
the  stone  age  was  far  in  advance  of  the  age  when 
there  had  been  no  invention.  By  experience  man 


234 


THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 


learned  which  plants  produced  the  most  food  with 
the  least  labor. 

A  few  years  ago  I  saw  at  Vienna,  Austria,  a  col- 
lection of  plows,  some  of  them  200  years  old,  and  I 
was  astonished  to  see  how  little  progress  there  had 
been  in  that  length  of  time.  In  Italy  I  saw  a  plow 
in  use  which  was  made  from- the  fork  of  a  tree,  and 
which  was  drawn  by  three  yoke  of  large  white  oxen. 
It  did  not  turn  a  furrow,  but  it  stirred  the  soil. 

Man  learned  to  improve  the  quality  as  well  as  the 
quantity  of  his  products.  The  knowledge  of  plant- 
life,  gained  by  experience,  has  been  a  great  aid ;  and 
in  the  last  fifty  years  science,  which  has  been  slow 
in  its  growth,  has  come  to  his  assistance.  Skilled 
hands  have  manufactured  light  hoes,  forks,  axes,  and 
scythes. 

The  grain-cradle  was  one  of  the  most  important 
inventions  ever  given  to  the  farmer,  but  its  import- 
ance is  now  hardly  appreciated  because  of  the  more 
skilful  inventions  that  followed  it. 

The  mowing-machine  was  the  most  wonderful  ad- 
vance in  farming,  and  stimulated  thought  for  farming- 
machinery  in  every  direction.  The  farmer  of  to-day 
plants  his  grain,  not  from  his  hand,  as  he  did  only  a 
few  years  ago,  but  from  the  drill.  The  horse  helps 
in  every  kind  of  labor.  He  plants  and  sows;  he  reaps 
and  mows ;  he  rakes  the  hay,  and  pitches  it  into  the 
mow  or  upon  the  stack.  He  not  only  cuts  the  grain 
and  puts  it  into  gavels,  but  he  binds  it  and  threshes 
it,  and  if  necessary  grinds  it.  He  plows  and  cultivates 
the  corn  while  his  driver  rides,  if  he  pleases,  protected 
by  his  umbrella  from  the  rays  of  the  sun. 


AS  WORKER.  235 

It  would  appear  almost  as  if  man's  many  efforts  to 
make  the  horse  useful  had  been  the  cause  of  his  own 
advancement  as  a  farmer.  The  horse  makes  his  roads, 
digs  his  ditches,  pulls  his  stumps,  saws  his  wood,  and 
assists  him  to  fell  the  trees  of  the  forest. 

But  the  horse  has  not  always  been  sufficiently  pow- 
erful to  satisfy  his  ambition,  nor  yet  has  the  camel  or 
the  elephant,  and  so  the  steam-engine  has  been  har- 
nessed to  the  plow,  and  the  cultivator,  and  the  har- 
row, and  ten  or  twelve  plows  now  turn  their  furrows 
across  the  field  at  the  same  time. 

How  can  any  one  go  upon  a  well-equipped  farm 
and  see  the  practical  corn-planter  and  sulky-plow,  the 
strong  mower  and  the  ingenious  reaper  and  binder, 
working  in  all  their  perfection,  without  great  admira- 
tion for  the  Man  Wonderful. 

AS   WORKER. 

"The  groves  were  God's  first  temple,"  and  they 
were  also  man's  first  workshop.  His  first  tool  proba- 
bly was  a  stick,  with  which  he  knocked  down  fruit 
that  grew  out  of  his  reach,  or  dug  up  some  root  that 
he  desired  to  eat.  Out  of  wood  he  formed  his  first 
rude  bow  and  arrow,  and  wood  has  been  an  import- 
ant constituent  of  his  improved  weapons  of  warfare, 
as  well  as  of  his  implements  of  peaceful  toil.  The 
cunning  and  skill  of  his  hands  have  made  the  wood- 
work of  the  modern  plow  a  vast  improvement  over 
the  simple  forked  stick  with  which  the  primitive 
farmer  tilled  the  soil.  Man  soon  perceived  the 
adaptability  of  wood  to  building  purposes.  Begin- 


236  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

ning  with  the  rough  poles  which  formed  the  frame 
work  of  his  wigwam  he  has  progressed  through  the 
log-cabin  and  board  "  shanty "  to  the  most  elegant 
modern  dwellings  made  and  ornamented  with  wood. 

With  his  axe  the  sturdy  backwoodsman  has  hewn 
through  the  heart  of  pathless  woods  a  road  to  honor 
for  himself  and  glory  for  his  country. 

With  the  historic  hatchet  from  the  historic  cherry, 
tree  he  has  carved  an  everlasting  figure  of  Truth,  and 
with  the  pine  stick  and  jack-knife  has  whittled  out 
the  renowned  wooden  hams  and  nutmegs  as  well  as 
whittling  himself  into  the  statue  of  the  representa- 
tive American. 

From  such  simple  labor  he  has  progressed  until 
wood,  under  the  carver's  hands,  has  become  not  only 
a  work  of  art,  attesting  the  genius  of  man,  but  a  con- 
tributor to  our  comfort  and  well-being  in  myriads  of 
forms,  and  each  particular  article  marks  the  progress 
of  man's  skill  in  wood-working.  The  board,  upon 
which  the  Indian  pappoose  is  strapped,  the  log  cradle 
of  the  pioneer's  baby,  and  the  elaborately  carved 
bassinet  of  the  infant  emperor  are  proofs  of  his  skill. 

From  the-  first  rude  musical  pipes  made  from  the 
reeds  that  grew  by  the  river's  bank,  man  has  ad- 
vanced until  a  myriad  of  wooden  musical  instruments 
sound  forth  his  praise.  A  wonderful  instance  of  skill 
in  wood-working  is  found  in  a  Brooklyn  violin-maker, 
who  has  been  able  to  make  a  violin  that  as  soon  as 
completed  has  the  appearance  and  tone  of  an  ancient 
Stradivarius  or  Amati  centuries  old.  We  are  proud 
of  such  men  who  give  us  a  national  pre-eminence 


AS  USER  OF  METALS. 

mcl  we  rejoice  in  the  simplest  efforts  of  our  boys 
and  girls,  because  they  are  the  prophecies  of  better 
things. 

The  rude  cross  by  the  roadside,  and  the  exquis- 
itely carved  pulpit  or  shrine,  are  not  merely  symbols 
to  be  regarded  with  reverence,  but  are  incontrover- 
tible facts  which  attest  the  continued  growth  of  a 
divine  gift  to  man. 

AS   USER   OF   METALS. 

The  old  mythology  tells  us  how  fire  was  stolen 
from  the  gods.  I  have  often  tried  to  satisfy  myself 
that  man  obtained  it  through  some  skill  of  his  own, 
but  have  failed.  Like  many  of  the  most  important 
discoveries,  its  origin  was  doubtless  accidental. 

Equally  mysterious  is  it  how  man  learned  that  metals 
were  in  the  earth,  and  could  be  made  of  avail.  It  would 
be  of  intense  interest  indeed  to  know  who  made  the  dis- 
covery, and  how.  He  must  have  been  a  thoughtful 
man ;  but  no  matter  how  keen  his  natural  powers,  he 
could  not  have  had  the  faintest  idea  of  the  value  of 
his  discovery.  His  first  use  of  metals  was  doubtless 
in  producing  weapons  of  warfare,  and  the  skill  of  an- 
cient peoples  in  this  respect,  at  least  in  some  direc- 
tions, has  not  been  surpassed  by  modern  inventions, 
as  is  witnessed  by  the  keen  Damascus  blade  which 
could  be  tied  in  a  knot  without  breaking.  But  our 
modern  Vulcans  surpass  the  men  of  every  age  in  the 
manufacturing  of  metals  into  implements  of  peaceful 
industry.  The  useful  arts  made  but  slow  progress  in 

the  many  centuries  preceding  the  advent  of  gunpow- 

16 


238 


THE  MAN   WONDERFUL 


der  and  the  making  of  cannon.  It  is  true  that  many 
beautiful  ornaments  had  been  made,  and  gems  had 
been  surrounded  with  metals  more  or  less  preciou? ; 
the  walls  of  the  Coliseum  had  been  bound  in  places 
by  iron  bands,  which,  later,  formed  a  mine  of  wealth 
to  the  Italians.  An  ignorant  and  arrogant  command- 
er had  attempted  to  put  an  unruly  river  in  chains,  but 
it  was  not  until  after  the  hoarse  sounds  from  the  throat 
of  the  cannon,  the  great  destroyer  of  human  life,  that 
men  awoke  to  an  appreciation  of  the  strength  and 
importance  of  iron.  The  search  for  liberty  and  the 
struggle  for  an  opportunity  to  develop  true  man- 
hood, established  a  new  nation  upon  a  new  continent, 
and  in  the  new  land  new  thoughts  awakened  a  new 
series  of  ideas.  The  steel  age  in  which  we  live  is  the 
age  of  earth's  greatest  advancement  and  prosperity. 
The  manufacturing  of  firearms  from  iron,  only  opened 
the  way  to  the  making  of  steam-engines,  railroads, 
and  bridges  of  steel.  Nearly  everywhere  iron  and 
steel  are  united  with  wood,  as  in  our  tools,  vehicles, 
and  ships,  but  in  many  places  steel  is  used  alone. 
The  "  swamp  angel,"  which  threw  solid  shot  seven 
miles  into  Charleston,  and  the  twenty-inch  cannon  at 
Fortress  Monroe,  fall  into  utter  insignificance  before 
the  skill  of  a  Krupp,  who  has  made  a  steel  gun  that 
throws  a  3CG-pound  solid  shot,  or  shell,  fifteen  miles. 

Steam  might  have  been  looked  upon  as  a  demon 
had  not  man  confined  him  within  bounds,  harnessed 
him  with  steel,  and  compelled  him  to  serve.  He  has 
made  for  him  steel  road-beds  upon  which  he  must 
travel  across  continents,  dragging  after  him  a  swelling 


HIS  MACHINES.  239 

train  of  industry  and  wealth.  He  has  compelled  him 
to  descend  into  the  depths  of  the  earth  and  bring  up 
treasures  of  salt,  iron,  coal,  silver,  gold,  and  precious 
gems.  He  has  penetrated  those  vast  reservoirs  of  oil 
which,  from  creation's  birth,  lay  hid  beneath  primeval 
rocks,  bringing  from  the  very  abodes  of  darkness  a 
light  to  illuminate  and  cheer  the  world.  Steam  har- 
nessed in  steel  has  plowed  the  mighty  deep,  and 
transporting  summer  to  the  doors  of  winter's  fortress, 
has  returned  with  winter's  ice  to  cool  the  glow  of 
tropic  climes. 

By  machines  of  his  own  construction  man  has 
brought  from  hidden  fountains,  embowelled  deep  in 
rocky  beds,  pure  and  delicious  water  to  supply  a  city's 
needs,  or  render  productive  desert  wastes.  Bridges 
span  the  torrents,  men  travel  on  aerial  roads  of  iron, 
or  stretch  an  iron  thread  around  the  globe  to  bear 
their  words  to  earth's  remotest  bounds.  With  greater 
truth  than  Socrates,  may  the  man  of  this  steel  age  ex- 
claim, "  I  am  thinking  myself  to  be  a  citizen  of  the 
whole  world." 

So  man  has  found  his  greatest  wealth  among  the 
metals  to  arise,  not  from  the  shining  gold  that,  like 
an  evil  eye,  lures  him  from  home  and  comfort ;  nor 
yet  in  the  glittering  silver  which  gleams  from  the 
darkness  of  mine  or  cavern;  but  in  the  dark,  dull 
lead,  copper,  and  iron  which  he  fuses,  molds,  or  forges 
into  shapes  of  usefulness  and  enduring  strength. 

Since  Peter  the  Great  worked  his  way  through  the 
rough  paths  of  a  mechanic's  life,  and  learned  how  to 
build  ships  and  implements  of  warfare,  in  order  that 


240  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

he  might  teach  his  people  how  to  work  and  protect 
themselves,  it  has  become  fashionable,  and  almost 
necessary,  for  the  scions  of  royalty  to  learn  how  to 
do  some  kind  of  work.  Shall  the  sons  of  free  Amer« 
ica  be  less  ambitious,  and  have  a  less  worthy  and 
solid. foundation  upon  which  to  build? 

The  fame  of  Washington  towers  above  that  of  any 
other  statesman  or  ruler,  and  a  grateful  nation  has 
erected  a  monument  to  his  glory  that  looks  down 
upon  all  other  monuments  made  by  men.  Happy 
the  people  who  have  produced  in  their  midst  noble, 
wise,  unselfish  patriots,  worthy  of  such  monuments. 
The  world  has  had  but  one  Washington,  and  he  an 
American. 

Some  men  are  able  to  build  and  carve  their  own 
monuments,  and  even  while  living  can  rejoice  in  en- 
during works  of  their  own  hands  which  are  emblems 
of  their  courage  and  constructive  skill.  The  mass- 
ive steel  bridge  across  the  Mississippi,  at  St.  Louis, 
is  a  lasting  monument  to  the  ability  of  Captain  Eads, 
and  the  deepened  mouth  of  the  Mississippi  declares 
his  greatness. 

The  magnificent  Brooklyn  Bridge  should  be  known 
as  the  Roebling  Bridge,  for  no  greater  monument 
to  the  honor  of  father  and  son  exists,  nor  should  the 
wife  of  the  son  be  forgotten,  for  without  her  care, 
intelligent  assistance,  and  womanly  devotion  it  might 
have  remained  incomplete.  A  courageous  young 
lieutenant,  a  scientific  investigator,  has  carried  the 
American  flag  into  the  home  of  the  North  Wind,  and 
by  so  doing,  defied  old  Frost  King  in  the  heart  of  his 


WOR THY  A MBI TION. 


241 


own  empire.  The  lieutenant  with  his  twenty-foui 
comrades  built  a  house  in  a  province  of  the  em- 
pire, and  laughed  at  the  threats  of  the  Frost  King. 
During  two  years  they  surveyed  his  dominions  and 
mapped  out  his  unknown  posessions  and  caused  a 
record  to  be  made  of  his  boundaries ;  they  estimated 
the  strength  of  his  fortresses  and  defied  the  dangers  of 
his  crystal  mountains.  With  their  scientific  instru- 
ments, they  measured  the  blusterings  of  the  North 
Wind,  and  recorded  his  intemperate  changelessness 
and  the  destructiveness  of  his  perseverance.  They 
brought  away,  as  trophies  of  their  courage  and  scien- 
tific skill,  the  records  of  their  researches. 

The  Frost  King  fortified  the  passages  of  their  re- 
treat and  prevented  their  meeting  with  comrades. 
Courageously  they  endured  privations  and  looked 
homeward  for  assistance  and  succor,  while  fifty  mill- 
ions of  their  countrymen  were  anxiously  wishing  to 
aid  them.  Six  of  the  twenty-five  immortals  have 
been  rescued  none  too  soon  for  the  glory  of  America 
Their  countrymen  are  proud  of  their  success  and  all 
nations  are  interested  in  these  achievements,  and  with 
admiration  speak  of  Lieut.  Greely.  Let  our  youths  be 
encouraged  to  exertion  in  every  worthy  field,  for 
the  monuments  are  numerous  that  may  yet  be 
erected  to  declare  the  glory  of  successful  labor 
and  ennobled  manhood. 


CHAPTER   V. 

DOUBTFUL    COMPANY. 

DID  you  ever  feel  that  there  was  something  that 
you  ought  to  say,  and  yet  you  wished  you  did  not 
have  to  say  it?  That  is  just  the  way  I  feel  now. 
There  are  two  foreigners  who  are  such  honored  and 
welcome  guests,  in  nearly  every  household,  that  I 
would  be  glad  to  speak  only  good  of  them,  or,  not 
being  able  to  do  that,  to  keep  silence  about  them  al- 
together. But  that  I  can  not  do.  So  I  will  tell  you 
what  science  says  in  regard  to  them. 

1  Once  upon  a  time,  about  two  hundred  years  ago, 
one  of  them,  whose  name  is  Coffea  Arabica,  was 
brought  to  France  and  England  for  the  first  time. 
Till  then  people  had  never  made  his  acquaintance  in 
those  countries.  Since  then  he  has  travelled  exten- 
sively, and  nations  widely  separated  have  made  his 
acquaintance,  and  have  become  much  attached  to 
him.  s  He  is  familiarly  known  as  Coffee.  I  need  not 
describe  him  to  you.  Many  of  you  see  him  every 
morning,  may,  perhaps,  have  even  more  than  a  bow- 
ing acquaintance  with  him.  You  like  him,  perhaps  ; 
and  you  begin  to  frown,  and  say :  "  You  need  not  tell 
me  that  he  is  a  bad  fellow.  I  know  better.  He  never 
harmed  any  one."  Well,  I  will  not  quarrel  with  you. 
T  will  only  tell  you  what  his  reputation  is  among  the 
(242) 


DOUBT fUL  COMPANY.  243 

learned,  and  leave  you  to  say  whether  you  will  make 
a  friend  of  him  or  not.  3  Those  who  argue  in  his  fa- 
vor say  of  him  that  he  checks  waste,  and  therefore  is 
indirectly  a  food.  4  To  check  waste  is  to  fill  the  sys- 
tem with  dead  matter,  and  that  is  not  desirable. 

5 "Anything  that  checks  waste  disturbs  vital  func- 
tions," is  the  testimony  of  science.  "Coffee  contains 
some  nutriment,  but  its  chief  action  is  stimulating 
rather  than  nourishing.  7  It  makes  a  person  forget 
that  he  is  tired,  which  may  be  pleasant ;  and  yet,  after 
all,  may  not  be  desirable.  8  If  we  know  that  we  are 
tired  we  will  rest,  and  so  the  material  which  has  been 
worn  out  by  exercise  will  have  a  chance  to  be  re- 
moved and  replaced  by  new  material.  But  if  we  for- 
get that  we  are  weary,  we,  perhaps,  will  continue  to 
exercise  and  so  destroy  more  tissue  than  will  be  re- 
built, and  so  we  will  tend  to  break  down. 

9  Dr.  Bartholow,  who  treats  of  coffee  wholly  from  a 
scientific  point  of  view,  says :  "  If  used  to  excess,  as  a 
beverage,  coffee  deranges  the  organs  of  digestion,  pro- 
ducing acidity,  flatulence,  pyrosis,  eructations,  head- 
ache, vertigo,  ringing  in  the  ears,  and  wakefulness." 
That  is  not  the  effect  of  water  or  other  true  foods. 

10  Dr.  Emmet,  another  authority,  says :  "  I  find  cof- 
fee, even  when  weak,  to  exert  a  very  deleterious  in- 
fluence, in  consequence  of  its  indirect  influence  on 
nutrition.     n  Whenever  a  patient  has  become  addicted 
to  the  use  of  stimulants,  anodynes,  or  coffee,  an  effort 
must  be  made  at   once,  without   a  compromise,  to 
break  up  the  dependence  upon  either  of  these  insid- 
ious poisons  to  the  nervous  system." 


244  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

™  Because  coffee  is  so  widely  known  and  used  some 
people  think  it  is  a  necessity  to  man  ;  but  to  quote 
again  from  Bartholow  :  13 "  Such  a  view  is  hardly  ten- 
able, the  highest  physical  and  mental  activity  not 
being  incompatible  with  entire  absence  from  it." 
14  That  is,  men  can  be  strong,  and  healthful,  and  intel- 
ligent, in  the  highest  sense,  without  ever  using  coffee. 

15  That  being  the  case  why  should  we  put  ourselves 
under  his  control,  for  he,  too,  is  a  guest  who  be- 
comes a  master?  le  We  can  keep  well,  and  strong,  and 
happy  without  him..  Why  not  stay  on  the  safe  side? 

11  The  other  foreigner,  of  whom  I  wish  to  speak,  is 
a  Chinaman.  But  I  do  not  imagine  that  our  people 
referred  to  him  when  they  said :  "  The  Chinese  must 
go."  In  fact  I  fancy  that,  if  they  had  supposed  the 
banishment  of  the  Chinese  from  our  shores  had  meant 
the  banishment  of  this  dear  friend  of  theirs,  they 
would  have  thought  more  than  twice  before  they  had 
said,  we  will  have  no  more  of  the  Chinese. 

18  This  guest,  with  whom  you  are  all  more  or  less 
acquainted,  is  named  Thea  Chinensis,  but  familiarly 
called  Tea.  19  Sometimes  his  complexion  is  green, 
sometimes  black,  and  so  he  is  known  as  Black  or  Green 
Tea.  20  Tea  has  properties  similar  to  those  of  coffee, 
and,  as  might  be  supposed,  the  effects  are  similar. 
21  Green  tea  is  said  to  be  more  stimulating  than  black. 
"The  tannic  acid  in  tea  coagulates  albumen.  You 
can  decide  for  yourselves  whether  that  is  desirable  in 
the  body.  24  Long  cooking  of  tea  extracts  its  acid, 
and  therefore  increases  the  deleterious  qualities. 

Bartholow  enumerates  the  effects  of  tea  as  the  same 


TEA-  TIPPLING.  24  5 

as  those  of  coffee,  and  adds:  "The  habitual  effects 
and  the  evil  results  of  habitual  excess  are  best  seen  in 
sewing-women  addicted  to  tea-tippling.  **  It  is  not 
uncommon  for  these  women  to  live  upon  bread  and 
tea  for  long  periods,  resulting  in  their  becoming  ex- 
cessively nervous  and  dyspeptic.  The  mucus  of  the 
stomach  plays  the  part  of  a  ferment,  the  bread  under- 
goes the  acetic  fermentation,  and  this  process  is  facil- 
itated by  the  presence  of  a  quantity  of  a  weak  astrin- 
gent solution.  20  Disorders  of  digestion,  due  to  this 
cause,  can  be  removed  by  withdrawal  of  the  offending 
beverage."  81  And  that  means  that  if  tea  is  harmful 
to  you,  don't  drink  it.  The  only  persons  who  can  drink 
tea  and  coffee,  with  a  reasonable  excuse,  are  those 
who  are  more  than  forty  years  of  age,  and  many 
of  these  can  not.  27  A  very  good  rule  of  conduct,  in 
all  cases  where  there  is  a  doubt,  is  to  give  yourself 
the  benefit  of  the  doubt.  There  is  not  the  least  doubt 
that  you  can  do  without  either  tea  or  coffee,  and  not 
be  harmed ;  therefore,  to  give  yourself  the  benefit  of 
the  doubt,  is  to  stay  on  the  safe  side,  and  not  use 
either.  28  Water  will  not  stimulate  you,  nor  harden 
the  albumen,  nor  check  waste.  29  Three-fourths  of 
the  body  is  water,  while  tea  and  coffee  are  not  natural 
constituents  of  the  body.  30  The  only  good  they  do 
in  the  system  is  by  the  water  they  introduce. 

32  There  are  other  visitors  to  our  house  who  might 
also  come  under  the  head  of  doubtful  company, 
They  are  classed  under  the  general  term,  condiments. 
33  The  pepper,  sauces,  spices,  which  are  used  to  stim< 
ulate  appetite,  do  so  by  irritating  the  mucous  mem- 


246  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

brane,  in  reality  creating  an  excitement  in  the  kitch- 
en, and  making  the  servants  express  a  desire  to  get 
rid  of  these  friends  who  bite. 

34  Pepper  and  mustard,  put  upon  the  unsensitive 
epidermis,  will  raise  a  blister,  and  35  much  sooner  will 
they  have  that  effect  upon  the  delicate  mucous  mem- 
brane of  the  mouth,  stomach,  and  alimentary  canal. 

Like  many  other  things  which  are  not  true  foods, 
their  use  begets  a  36  desire  for  an  increased  and  in- 
creasing quantity ;  and  the  person  who  began  with  a 
small  amount  of  pepper  will  in  a  few  years  want  his 
food  quite  black  with  it.  87  Any  article  whose  use 
produces  an  intense  desire  for  its  continued  and  in- 
creasing use,  a  craving  which  no  other  article  will  sat- 
isfy, may  safely  be  set  down  as  injurious.  Wholesome 
food  never  creates  such  a  longing.  We  do  not  eat 
one  potato  to-day,  and  to-morrow  want  two,  and  next 
week  three,  and  so  on  increasing  the  quantity,  and 
feeling  unsatisfied  unless  we  have  potatoes.  And  the 
same  is  true  of  all  wholesome  foods.  But  tea,  coffee, 
and  condiments  demand  increase,  both  in  strength 
and  quantity,  and  create  a  desire  that  will  not  be  ap- 
peased by  any  wholesome  substitute. 

We  have  an  exceedingly  kind  and  faithful  friend, 
whom,  however,  we  do  not  love,  for  he  never  speaks 
to  us  unless  he  has  something  unpleasant  to  say. 
His  name  is  Pain,  and  when  he  begins  to  scold  and 
chide  us,  we  think  of  nothing  but  finding  some  means 
of  silencing  him. 

There  are  certain  guests  who  are  sometimes  invited 
to  the  house  just  because  they  have  the  power  of 


FALSE  FRIENDS.  24? 

compelling  Pain  to  keep  sile'nt.  They  are  false 
friends,  for  if  we  are  not  very  careful,  they  end  by 
enslaving  us,  and  what  is  worst  of  all,  we  may  come 
to  love  our  chains. 

One  of  these  doubtful  friends  is  named  Chloral 
Hydrate.  He  has  been  an  acquaintance  of  the  Man 
Wonderful  about  twenty  years.  At  first  he  was  con- 
sidered to  be  a  very  valuable  friend,  for  he  quieted 
Pain,  and  gave  the  Master  delightful  sleep. 

But  in  time  it  was  learned  that  he  very  sadly  inter- 
fered with  the  work  in  the  Kitchen  and  Dining-room, 
and,  as  a  consequence,  ultimately  with  the  health  and 
well-being  of  the  house.  The  Master  found,  when 
too  late,  that  after  employing  Chloral  Hydrate  to 
give  him  sleep,  he  became  unable  to  sleep  without 
the  soothing  effect  of  this  narcotic,  and  finally,  such 
large  and  increasing  doses  were  required,  that  the 
health  became  utterly  ruined,  and  Pain,  refusing,  at 
last,  to  yield  to  the  Tyrant's  dominion,  made  life  an 
intolerable  burden. 

Another  false  friend  who  comes  to  silence  Pain, 
and  ends  by  enslaving  the  Master  of  the  house,  is 
called  Opium. 

He  has  long  been  known  in  Eastern  countries,  and 
is  becoming  more  and  more  widely  known  in  our 
own  land.  His  personal  appearance  is  not  attractive, 
but  so  strong  is  his  influence  over  Pain  that  he  re- 
ceives a  very  cordial  welcome  by  those  who  suffer. 
Soon  after  he  enters  the  house  he  takes  Pain  by  the 
throat  and  throttles  him,  and  sends  a  wonderfully 
peaceful  feeling  through  the  whole  house  He  par- 


348  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

ulyzes  the  nerves  of*  sensation  so  that  they  carry  no 
messages,  and  the  Master  fancies  that,  because  he 
hears  of  no  trouble,  none  exists.  But  after  >a  time 
the  servants  of  the  house  are  aroused  from  the  torpor 
into  which  they  are  always  thrown  by  the  presence 
of  Opium,  and  begin  to  make  most  agonizing  com- 
plaints. Driven  by  this  torture  perhaps,  Opium  is 
again  invited  to  produce  quiet,  and  his  presence  acts 
like  magic,  and  in  this  way  he  comes  to  have  such  a 
power,  that  the  Master  is  willing  to  forgive  him  for 
all  the  ills  he  creates  because  of  the  power  he  seems 
to  have  in  soothing  them.  This  goes  on  until  the 
Man  becomes  a  perfect  slave  to  Opium,  who  alter- 
nately tortures  and  caresses  his  victim,  until  he  at 
last  forces  him  to  vacate  his  once  beautiful  house, 
now  despoiled,  and  rendered  utterly  unfit  for  habita- 
tion. The  slaves  of  Opium  may  possibly  be  freed 
from  his  chains,  but  it  is  very  doubtful  if  they  ever 
are. 

The  poet  Coleridge,  who  for  many  years  was  an 
opium  devotee,  writes  :  "  There  is  no  hope.  O  God  ! 
how  willingly  would  I  place  myself  under  Dr.  Fox 
in  his  establishment  ;  for  my  case  is  a  species  of  mad- 
ness, only  that  it  is  a  derangement,  an  utter  impo- 
tence of  volition,  and  not  of  the  intellectual  faculties. 
You  bid  me  rouse  myself.  Go,  and  bid  a  paralytic 
in  both  arms,  to  rub  them  briskly  together,  and  that 
will  cure  him.  '  Alas ! '  he  would  reply,  '  that  I  can 
not  move  my  arms  is  my  complaint,  and  my  misery/  " 
After  a  fearful  struggle  Coleridge  was  liberated  from 
the  dominion  of  Opium. 


A  VOID  DOUBTF  UL  CO  Ml  'ANY.. 


249 


De  Quincey,  who  also  freed  himself  from  this  tyr- 
anny, says  :  "  I  triumphed,  but  think  not  that  my  suf- 
ferings were  ended.  Think  of  me  as  of  one  who 
even  when  four  months  have  passed,  still  agitated, 
writhing,  throbbing,  palpitating,  and  shattered." 

This  is  how  Opium  serves  those  who  trust  him. 
Far  better  would  it  be  to  ask  why  Pain  is  chiding 
us,  and  to  so  regulate  our  lives  that  he  could  find  no 
chances  to  complain,  than  to  close  his  mouth  by 
Chloral  Hydrate,  Haschish,  Absinthe,  or  Opium,  and 
by  so  doing  become  their  abject  slaves.  Of  all  those 
who  come  under  their  dominion,  not  one  in  a  thou- 
sand has  strength  to  break  the  chains  and  become 
free. 

Some  preparations  of  opium  are  injected  under 
the  skin.  In  this  case  the  effect  of  the  drug  mani- 
fests itself  more  rapidly  than  if  taken  into  the  stom- 
ach, and  the  opium  habit  thus  formed  is  as  hard  to 
break  as  when  it  is  smoked,  or  taken  as  a  pill. 

If  ever  these  powerful  and  poisonous  drugs  are  in- 
troduced into  the  system,  it  should  be  under  the 
direction  of  a  competent  and  honest  physician,  who 
will  never  permit  a  patient  to  be  the  judge  of  when, 
how,  or  how  frequently  such  dangerous  guests  should 
enter  the  House  Beautiful. 

Come,  I  offer  you  my  hand.  Shall  we  agree  to 
keep  away  from  doubtful  company,  as  well  as  that 
which  we  know  to  be  injurious  in  the  extreme? 


CHAPTER    VI. 

BAD   COMPANY. 

/ 

"  A  MAN  is  known  by  the  company  he  keeps." 
Men  of  low  tastes  and  vile  habits  do  not  choose 
for  companions  those  who  have  pure  tastes  and  high 
aspirations.  1  You  have  not  forgotten  that  our  house 
is  guarded  by  twin-brothers,  Taste  and  Smell,  whose 
duty  it  is  to  examine  all  those  who  present  themselves 
as  candidates  for  the  acquaintance  or  friendship  of 
the  master  of  the  house.  *  They  are  both  very  candid, 
and  express  their  opinion  very  decidedly.  3  What- 
ever Taste  dislikes  is  sure  to  be  disagreeable  to  the 
other  servants  of  the  household ;  4  and  if  the  master 
becomes  strongly  attached  to  bad  friends,  the  only 
thing  the  servants  can  do  is  to  try  and  make  the 
best  of  a  bad  matter.  *  It  is  then  to  the  master  of 
the  house  that  we  6  must  appeal,  if  we  would  prevent 
the  formation  of  hurtful  friendships ;  and  it  is  he 
whom  we  must  educate  to  recognize  these  objection- 
able claimants  for  his  favor. 

7  The  first  one  of  whom  I  will  speak  is  a  native  of 

America,  but  is  widely  known  over  the  world.    3  When 

Columbus,  in  1492,  landed  on  the  shores  of  this  New 

World  he  was  met   by  this  distinguished  American. 

Cortez,  when  he  conquered  Mexico  in  1519,  also  met 

(250) 


BAD  COMPANY.  2$1 

him.  10  He  was  always  present  among  the  North 
American  Indians  at  their  religious  ceremonies,  and 
was  indispensable  to  the  conclusions  of  "treaties  of 
peace  as  well  as  to  declarations  of  war.  "  He  was 
soon  introduced  to  European  society,  and  received 
with  much  kindness.  13  He  was  taken  to  Spain  and 
to  France,  being  presented  to  the  Queen  Catherine  de 
Medici,  and  in  France  was  called  Her  be  de  la  Reine  ; 
and  to  the  Church  authorities  of  Italy  about  the  year 
1560,  where  he  was  known  as  Erba  Santa  Croce. 

Quite  a  number  of  gentlemen  claim  the  honor  ot 
introducing  him  to  the  nobility  of  England,  13  but 
Sir  Walter  Raleigh  generally  obtains  the  credit.  In 
1601  he  was  carried  to  India,  and  in  1609  to  Java. 
He  was  popularly  supposed  to  have  great  powers  in 
the  curing  of  disease,  and  soon  became  very  gener- 
ally trusted.  l4  James  the  First  of  England  was  the 
first  to  perceive  that  this  universally  beloved  and 
welcomed  guest  was  a  dangerous  friend,  and  de- 
nounced him  accordingly,  and  he  made  people  pay 
dearly  for  the  privilege  of  entertaining  him. 

This  American  fell  into  disgrace  among  the  Italian 
clergy,  "and  Pope  Urban,  in  1625,  issued  a  bull  ex- 
communicating all  persons  who  should  entertain  him. 
•e  He  was  prohibited  by  royal  decrees  in  Persia, 
Turkey,  and  China.  Our  1T  Puritan  Fathers  made 
laws  against  him,  and  forbade  his  coming  to  church. 
'"  But  still  this  widely-travelled  American  had  many 
warm  friends  who  received  and  entertained  him  ;  and 
while  much  was  written  against  him,  much  was  also 
written  in  his  favor.  )9  Charles  Lamb,  in  taking  leave 
of  him,  writes : 


252  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

"Brother  of  Bacchus,  later  born, 
The  Old   World  was   sure  forlorn 
Wanting  thee  ; 

For  I  must  (nor  let  it  grieve  thee, 
Friendliest  of  plants,  that  I  must)  leave  thee. 

For  thy  sake,  Tobacco,  I 

Would  do  anything  but  die." 

You  know  that  it  is  not  his  20  beauty  nor  sweet- 
ness thathas  recommended  him  to  kings,  queens,  and 
nobles  ;  and  you  also  know  that  he  is  notaboveasso- 
ciating  with  the  humblest  and  vilest  of  mankind. 
21  Tobacco  comes  of  a  bad  family.  Among  his  rela- 
tives we  find  the  deadly  nightshade,  the  horse-nettle, 
henbane,  and  Jamestown  weed.  "  But  he  has  some 
useful  kindred.  He  is  cousin  to  the  pepper  and  the 
night-blooming  jessamine,  and  second  cousin  to  the 
tomato  and  potato.  a3  There  are  many  opinions  as 
to  how  he  came  by  his  name,  but  there  is  no  doubt 
that  his  name  is  Tobacco.  As  we  know  him,  he  is  a 
black,  disagreeable  fellow,  with  a  bad  odor  and  a 
worse' flavor.  a4  One  would  imagine  that  if  a  person 
wanted  to  become  an  intimate  friend  of  a  family  he 
would  make  himself  especially  agreeable  at  the  first 
call ;  but  Tobacco  does  just  the  contrary.  As  soon  as 
he  enters,  the  whole  household  is  thrown  into  an  up- 
roar. All  the  servants  unite  to  get  rid  of  the  guest, 
whom  they  recognize  as  an  enemy  of  their  dear  mas- 
ter ;  a6  and  in  this  effort  the  whole  contents  of  the 
kitchen  sometimes  is  emptied  out  at  the  front  door, 
"  and  the  general  disturbance  is  so  great  that  work  in 


NICO  TINE— PR  US  SIC  A  CID.  253 

the  whole  house  may  be  temporarily  suspended  until 
the  faithful  servants  can  recover  from  their  struggle 
with  the  foe. 

*7  If  Tobacco  be  admitted  again  and  again  the  ser- 
vants give  up  the  struggle  and  tolerate  the  visitor, 
because  the  master  likes  his  company,  but  they  re- 
move, as  fast  as  possible,  all  traces  of  his  presence, 
and  say  little ;  because  being  compelled  to  endure 
him,  they  learn  to  do  it  silently.  a8  The  lungs  are 
busy  throwing  him  out  as  fast  as  possible.  39  We 
know  this  because  the  breath  is  tainted  with  his  poi- 
sonous odor ;  8°  the  kidneys  are  overworked ;  the  skin 
is  saturated ;  and  the  bowels  are  sometimes  thrown 
into  slight  convulsions  (called  "  tetanic  contractions  ") 
in  their  violent  efforts  to  cast  out  the  foe.  Do  you 
think  foe  is  too  strong  a  word  to  use?  Wouldn't 
you  think  prussic  acid  a  foe  ?  Professor  Bartholow, 
who  is  authority  on  such  matters,  says  :  81 "  The  active 
principle  of  tobacco  corresponds,  in  mode  and  intensity 
of  action,  to  PRUSSIC  ACID."  "  This  active  principle 
is  called  nicotine.  83  A  single  drop  of  it  has  killed  a 
rabbit  in  less  than  four  minutes.  **  If  a  dose  large 
enough  be  taken,  it  will  kill  a  man  in  less  than  five 
minutes,  and  it  does  not  take  such  a  very  large 
amount.  In  using  tobacco  one  does  not  get  the  clear 
nicotine,  and  that  is  the  reason  its  bad  effects  are  not 
more  clearly  recognized. 

"  Tobacco  masquerades  under  different  forms  and 
different  dress,  but  his  personality  is  unchanged.  His 
most  universal  character  is  that  of  a  real  home  body. 
8n  He  sometimes  plays  this  part  in  the  rough  garb  of 
a  peasant  or  pioneer  without  any  arts  of  adornment. 

17 


254  THE  MAN   WONDERFUL. 

"  In  this  coarse  dress  he  sits  down  with  the  tired 
farmer,  or  cow-boy,  and  tells  them  wonderful  tales  of 
his  goodness  to  them,  his  efforts  for  their  happiness, 
and  they  listen  while  88  he  steals  past  Olfactory  Sense, 
and  dulls  the  other  senses,  and  cheats  the  man  out  of 
the  best  of  life,  that  is,  the  delight  in  being  alive 
through  and  through.  To  be  stifled,  stunned,  or  par- 
alyzed is  not  to  live,  even  though  the  process  may 
destroy  the  consciousness  of  pain  or  trouble.  3B  But 
Tobacco  takes  great  credit  for  his  self-sacrifice,  as  he 
terms  it ;  he  is  willing  "  to  gi-ve  his  body  to  be  burned  " 
to  promote  the  happiness  of  his  friends.  His  first 
appearance  in  this  character  of  a  self-immolator,  of 
which  we  have  any  record,  was  among  his  old  friends,, 
the  "aboriginal  North  American  Indians,  where  he 
burned  in  the  calumet  or  pipe  of  peace.  41  And  it  is 
in  the  pipe  that  he  appears  in  his  character  of  bene- 
factor to  the  greatest  number  of  people. 

Tobacco  knows  well  how  to  adapt  himself  to  the 
company  he  is  in.  Humble  and  coarse  among  the 
ruder  classes  of  mankind,  4a  he  puts  on  more  style 
when  coming  among  those  more  pretentious  in  dress 
and  manners.  43  At  home  in  the  corn-cob  pipe  of  the 
pioneer,  or  the  briar-root  pipe  of  the  Indian,  he  is 
equally  at  home  in  the  expensive  brown-tinted  meer- 
schaum of  the  German  prince,  or  the  bejewelled 
hookah  of  the  Indian  nabob. 

But,  just  as  the  actor  under  all  disguises  is  the  same, 
so  Tobacco  is  ever  the  same  in  his  characteristics, 44  and 
in  the  influence  he  exerts  upon  the  master  and  the 
servants  of  the  House  Beautiful.  He  goes  about  the 


SNUFF  IN  THE  SENATE.  255 

premises  doing  mischief  and  blinding  the  eyes  of  the 
owner,  or  deceiving  him  with  a  recital  of  his  good 
offices.  4D  He  burns  the  tongue  and  mucous  membrane  ; 
*"  he  changes  the  shape  of  the  red  corpuscles ;  he 
paints  the  facade  an  ugly  yellow  color  ;  47  he  makes  the 
cook  unable  to  do  his  work  well,  and  thus  produces  a 
disease  called  dyspepsia  ;  4b  he  stimulates  the  salivary 
glands  to  undue  labor,  and  so  wastes  their  power ;  he 
irritates  the  bronchia,  and  increases  cough,  if  cough 
exist ;  49  and  sometimes  that  most  terrible  disease, 
cancer,  has  been  traced  to  the  use  of  the  pipe. 

"  Many  and  many  a  year  ago, 
In  kingdoms  across  the  sea," 

&"  as  well  as  in  our  own  land,  Tobacco  was  carried  around 
in  the  pockets  of  his  friends  in  little  boxes.  &1  He 
was  then  masquerading  in  the  character  of  confiden- 
tial friend  or  bosom  companion.  In  this  form  he 
claimed  to  be  exceedingly  refined,  and  was  admitted  in- 
to the  confidence  of  the  most  cultivated  of  both  sexes. 
""  Snuff-boxes  were  the  usual  gifts  of  kings  and  queens 
to  each  other,  and  were  made  of  silver  or  gold  and 
adorned  with  jewels.  But  even  in  this  form  Tobacco, 
true  to  his  nature,  did  not  disdain  the  common  peo- 
ple, and  in  cheap  boxes  of  tin  or  lacquer  kept  close 
by  their  sides,  and  won  their  confidence. 

53 1  wonder  how  many  of  you  know  that  the  item 
of  snuff  enters  into  the  annual  expense  account  of 
the  United  States  Senate  ? 

There  are  probably  few  if  any  snuff-takers  now  in 
the  Senate,  but  the  fact  that  it  was  once  considered  of 


2 56  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

so  much  importance  as  to  be  classed  among  the  neo 
essary  expenses  of  the  Senators,  shows  that  it  must 
have  been  generally  used.  64  A  public  snuff-box  stood 
by  the  table  of  the  Vice-President,  who  presides  in  the 
Senate,  and  we  are  told  that  Henry  Clay,  in  making 
his  great  speeches,  was  accustomed  to  pause,  and,  go- 
ing to  this  box,  deliberately  take  a  pinch,  and  then 
returning  to  his  place,  proceed  with  his  address. 

65  One  of  the  effects  of  snuff-taking  is  to  destroy 
the  sense  of  smell.  &6  Smell  being  deadened,  Taste 
suffers  likewise,  for  we  have  learned  that  Taste  needs 
the  aid  of  his  twin-brother,  Smell,  to  be  able  to  form 
an  entirely  just  judgment  of  things.  Dyspepsia  also 
results  from  snuffing. 

67  Another  evil  effect  is  the  collection  of  snuff  in  the 
back  part  of  the  nose,  called  the  posterior  nares,  cut- 
ting off  communication  between  Olfactory  Sense  and 
the  master  of  the  house.  Such  a  collection  of  snuff 
in  the  nose  has  been  mistaken  for  a  tumor.  Snuff- 
taking  is  a  habit  that  enslaves.  58  A  snuff-taker  with- 
out his  snuff-box  can  not  think,  can  not  work,  can  not 
be  happy.  Like  the  Irish  clergyman,  he  begins  the 
day  with  the  sentiment, 

"  Before  I  budge  an  inch 
I  hail  Aurora  with  a  pinch." 

And  during  every  hour  of  the  day  he  says  with  the 
same  writer: 

"  Whate'er  I  do,  where'er  I  be, 
My  social  box  attends  on  me." 


CHAPTER   VII. 

BAD   COMPANY — TOBACCO   A   QUACK   DENTIST. 

TOBACCO  not  only  plays  the  part  of  a  bosom  friend 
or  that  of  a  self-immolator  for  man's  good,  1  but  he 
styles  himself  a  professional  gentleman,  and  takes 
upon  himself  to  act  the  part  of  a  dentist.  "  Only 
give  me  a  chance,"  says  he,  2  "  and  I  will  preserve  your 
teeth,  and  cure  your  tooth-aches";  and  men  be- 
lieve him.  3  And  women  too  are  sometimes  misled, 
and  swab  their  mouths  with  snuff.  4  Tobacco  is  never 
so  disgusting  as  when  playing  dentist.  6  No  people 
except  the  Americans  employ  him  in  that  capacity  ; 
Southern  women  "  dip,"  and  men  both  Norton  and 
South  chew.  Not  only  is  he  disgusting,  but  he  does 
more  real  mischief  in  that  way  than  in  any  other. 
He  does  not  keep  his  word.  6  He  does  not  preserve 
the  teeth,  but  in  reality  stains  and  discolors  the  en- 
amel, weakens  the  gums,  wears  the  teeth  away,  makes 
the  breath  bad,  and,  in  short,  he  does  so  much  dam- 
age, that  if  he  were  any  other  than  a  quack  dentist, 
we  would  discharge  him  at  once.  7In  addition  to  the 
evil  which  he  does  unaided,  he  takes  advantage  of 
the  confidence  which  his  employers  have  in  him  to 
introduce  into  the  house  other  guests  only  less  inju- 
rious than  himself.  Some  of  these  are  burdock, 

(257) 


258  THE  MAN   WONDERFUL. 

lampblack,  sawdust,  colt's-foot,  plantain  leaves,  ful 
ler's  earth,  lime,  salt,  alum,  and  many  others.  They 
are  employed  because  they  are  cheaper,  and  they  are 
almost  as  mean  as  tobacco. 

8  While  Tobacco  is  pretending  to  be  a  dentist,  he  is 
quarrelling  with  the  cook,  .  irritating  the  salivary 
glands,  and  making  them  do  extra  work,  and  creating 
so  much  general  disturbance  in  the  household  by  his 
presence  that  the  master  9  suffers  with  dyspepsia  and 
probably  from  sleeplessness,  low  spirits,  nightmare, 
gloomy  forebodings,  fear  of  death,  pallor,  emaciation, 
dizziness,  rush  of  blood  to  th2  head,  palpitation  of  the 
heart,  and  a  host  of  other  horrors,  and  all  the  while 
Tobacco  is  saying,  "  I  am  so  sorry  for  you  ;  but  I  am 
your  friend.  10  See  how  I  calm  you,  and  rest  you, 
and  comfort  you."  And  the  poor  devotee  believes 
this  false  friend,  and  remains  under  his  evil  influence. 
If  he  would  give  Tobacco  permanent  leave  of  absence 
he  would  soon  find  himself  relieved  of  all  his  domes- 
tic difficulties.  The  servants  glad  to  be  rid  of  such 
a  tyrant  would  again  work  harmoniously. 

11  Wherever  Tobacco  is  employed  he  puts  up  a  sign : 
"  Tobacco  is  dentist  here  !  "  12  It  can  be  'read  in  the 
snuffy  skin,  in  the  disagreeable  breath,  discolored 
teeth  and  flabby  gums.  As  with  all  dentists,  his  work- 
speaks  for  itself. 

18  In  the  matter  of  expectoration  of  tobacco-juice. 
America  has  a  world-wide  reputation.  14  It  has  be- 
come a  measure  of  public  safety  to  provide  in  public 
places  spittoons  of  enormous  dimensions,  and  the 
5  senatorial  cuspidore  is  now  more  an  object  of  Gov- 


QUACK  DENTIST. 

ernmental  importance  than  the  public  snuff-box.  Not 
only  does  the  cuspidore  assist  (in  the  French  sense  of 
the  word)  16  at  the  grave  and  weighty  discussions 
of  legislative  bodies,  but  finds  a  place  in  elegant 
homes  and  even  in  the  pulpit. 

17  It  is  said  that  cannibals  will  not  eat  the  flesh  of  a 
man  who  used  tobacco,  it  is  so  tainted  with  it.  There- 
fore, if  a  man  expects  to  be  killed  by  cannibals,  and 
cares  whether  he  is  eaten  after  death  or  not,  he  might 
secure  himself  from  such  a  fate  by  soaking  himself  in 
tobacco-juice.  But  I  have  never  heard  that  cannibals 
hesitate  about  killing  a  man  because  he  uses  tobacco. 

The  success  of  Tobacco,  in  his  capacity  of  dentist, 
is  in  inverse  proportion  to  his  promises.  18  Like 
some  other  dentists,  he  claims  to  be  a  medical 
assistant,  and  there  is  quite  a  long  list  of  diseases 
which  he  assumes  to  cure. 

This  is  an  age  of  nervous  diseases.  Every  physi- 
cian knows  that  they  are  rapidly  increasing.  Tobacco 
says,  19  "  I  can  cure  nervous  troubles  ";  and  the  suf- 
ferer trying  it,  and  finding  himself,  for  the  time  being, 
suffering  less,  believes  that  Tobacco  has  cured  him. 
What  he  has  done  is  to  20  paralyze  the  nerves  so  that 
they  can  no  longer  complain.  He  claims  to  cure 
spasmodic  diseases,  and  yet  we  find  spasmodic 
troubles  directly  traceable  to  the  use  of  tobacco.  To 
employ  Tobacco  as  doctor,  is  not  applying  the  hair  of 
the  dog  to  cure  the  bite,  but  getting  him  to  bite  you 
again  in  the  same  place. 

"  Tobacco,"  says  one  man,  "  causes  seventy  kinds 
of  disease.  ai  It  kills  twenty-five  per  cent,  of  the 


26O  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

vigor  of  the  country,  and  damaging  this  generation, 
injures  the  next."  Some  of  the  ™  diseases  traceable 
to  tobacco,  are  ulceration  of  the  tongue,  lips,  tonsils, 
gums,  mucous  membrane  of  mouth  and  pharynx , 
constipation,  loss  of  appetite,  palpitation  of  the 
heart,  neuralgia,  dizziness,  trembling,  loss  of  manli- 
ness, general  debility  of  the  nerves,  deafness,  loss  of 
memory,  mania,  palsy,  apoplexy,  disease  of  the  liver, 
and  dyspepsia.  A  peculiar  influence  is  exerted  on 
the  glands  of  the  throat  and  tonsils."  23  Dr.  Richard- 
son says :  "  I  once  examined  the  throats  of  fifty 
smokers  of  different  ages  and  habits,  and  found  in 
them  the  enlargement  of  tonsils  so  common,  and  the 
other  appearances  so  marked  (that  is,  the  redness  and 
dryness  of  throat)  that  I  think  I  could  detect  an  im- 
moderate smoker  by  these  signs  alone."  He  also 
says,  "  The  smoker's  sore  throat  is  more  easily  in- 
duced by  the  use  of  cigars  than  of  pipes,  and  when 
established  is  incurable  so  long  as  the  cause  which  ex- 
cited it  is  allowed  to  continue,  but  soon  disappears  when 
the  cigar  or  pipe  is  laid  aside." 

24  This  condition  of  throat  creates  a  feeling  of 
thirst,  to  satisfy  which  many  a  man  is  led  to  the  use 
of  strong  drinks. 

Cancer  of  the  lip  is  often  induced  in  persons  who 
smoke  short  pipes,  breaking  out  at  that  part  of  the 
lip  whereon  the  pipe  presses.  25  Smoking  interferes 
with  the  heart's  power  of  contraction,  it  being  to  a 
certain  extent  paralyzed.  In  inveterate  smokers  the 
pupils  are  dilated  more  than  is  natural.  26  In  reading, 
the  letters  become  blurred,  sometimes  bright  images 


TOBACCO  CHANGES  THE  EYE.  26l 

or  specks  float  before  the  eyes.  A  sure  test  of  the 
injury  done  by  tobacco,  is  in  the  impression  made 
upon  the  retina,  by  means  of  which  an  object  will  be 
seen  long  after  the  eye  is  shut,  or  the  object  itself  has 
disappeared.  Richardson  gives  an  instance  of  a  man 
who  could  retain  an  image  of  a  bright  object  as  long 
as  six  minutes  after  the  eyes  were  withdrawn  from  it. 
17 1  have  frequently  seen  Professor  Galazowski,  of 
Paris,  examine  with  an  ophthalmoscope  the  eyes  of 
strangers  who  came  to  him  for  treatment,  and,  with- 
out asking  a  single  question  as  to  their  habits  of  life, 
he  would  indicate  those  who  were  accustomed  to  use 
tobacco  to  excess.  This  he  was  able  to  do  by  ob- 
serving the  changes  made  in  the  nerve  and  retina  of 
the  eye. 

28  Indulgence  in  tobacco  also  affects  the  sense  of 
hearing,  causing  confusion  of  sounds  with  an  inability 
to  appreciate  distinctly  sounds  either  very  soft  or 
very  loud.  After  a  time,  another  symptom  will  be  a 
sudden,  sharp  ringing  in  the  ears,  like  the  ringing  of 
a  bell,  or  the  whistling  of  the  wind ;  this  may  last 
some  minutes  and  may  be  accompanied  with  giddi- 
ness. 

19  The  nicotine  of  tobacco  affects  both  the  volun- 
tary and  involuntary  nerves.  It  excites  the  motor 
nerves,  and  causes  muscular  agitation,  followed  by 
temporary  suspension  of  action  and  paralysis.  It  ex- 
cites the  involuntary  nerves,  and  produces  muscular 
spasm  followed  by  loss  of  power.  This  is  what  pro- 
duces the  pain  in  the  stomach,  spasm  and  vomiting, 
and  the  palpitation  of  the  heart.  30  Tobacco  affects 


262  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

the  glands  of  the  system,  exciting  a  free  secretion, 
and  if  the  use  become  immoderate,  the  process  ol 
secretion  may  become  incontrollable,  because  of  a 
paralysis  induced.  81  These  are  the  opinions  of  the 
best  physicians  who  have  studied  closely  the  effects 
of  tobacco. 

32  Lizars  says :  "  I  have  found  that  patients  addicted 
to  tobacco  were  in  spirit  cowardly,  and  deficient  in 
manly  fortitude  to  undergo  any  surgical   operation 
however  trifling." 

33  Professor  Hinds  has  come  to  the  conclusion  that 
if  the  American  people  desire  the  highest  perfection 
to  which  a  race  can  be  brought,  they  must  renounce 
tobacco  forever.     But  is  it  all  a  pretence  then  that 
tobacco  is  of  avail  as  a  remedy  ? 

34  Professor  Bartholow  says :  "  Tobacco  is  a  severe 
and  very  depressing  nauseant  and  emetic,"  and  giving 
the  diseases  to  which  it  is  applicable  as  a  remedy,  adds 
always  one  of  the  following  pertinent  remarks:  "It 
must  be  borne  in  mind  that  it  is  not  free  from  dan- 
ger."   "  Care  must  be  taken  not  to  introduce  a  lethal 
quantity,  and  so  produce  death  by  asphyxia."    "  It  is 
so  horribly  depressing  that  the  remedy  may  justly 
be  considered  as  conducive  to  greater  evil."    "  Its  use 
is  rarely  justifiable."     "  We  possess  other  remedies 
less  dangerous."     This  is  Tobacco's  diploma. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

BAD   COMPANY — TOBACCO   AS  A   DUDE. 

1  THE  "  Dude  "  is  a  creation  of  these  later  days,  and 
not  to  be  behind  the  times,  Tobacco  also  appears  as  a 
"  Dude."  3  It  is  a  character  particularly  attractive 
to  juvenile  minds,  and  boys,  so  young  as  not  to  be 
charmed  by  pipe  or  cigar,  are  captivated  by  the  Cigar- 
ette. 3  Slight  in  figure,  he  seems  to  be  too  insignifi- 
cant to  be  of  harm  to  any  one,  and  this  apparent  in- 
significance is  his  strong  point.  4  u  How  can  such  a 
tiny  fellow  as  I,  do  you  any  harm  ?  "  he  asks.  And 
the  query  seems  to  be  such  an  absurdity  that  the 
only  appropriate  answer  would  be  a  smile.  Let  us 
see  if  this  dwarf  is  as  harmless  as  he  would  make  us 
believe.  5  The  fumes  of  the  cigarette  are  drawn 
more  directly  into  the  lungs  than  those  of  the  pipe 
or  cigar,  and  the  smoke  of  the  paper  in  which  they 
are  rolled  is  an  additional  abomination.  6  Sending 
the  smoke  through  the  nose  brings  the  delicate 
mucous  membrane  lining  it,  directly  under  the  in- 
fluence of  the  acrid  poison,  and  catarrh  is  a  result. 
T  He  is  assisted  by  the  vilest  companions.  Stumps 
of  old  cigars,  and  refuse  of  the  vilest  kinds,  are  in- 
corporated into  cigarettes. 

As  the  first  effect  of  tobacco  in  all  forms  is  to  in- 

(263) 


264  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

terfere  with,  and  weaken  digestion,  *  we  can  see  at 
once  that  the  effect  on  growing  boys  will  be  particu- 
larly hurtful,  for  in  youth,  growth,  as  well  as  repair, 
is  a  law  of  the  system,  and  anything  that  interferes 
with  digestion  interferes  with  growth.  The  boy  who 
smokes  will  not  be  as  large,  or  as  strong,  or  as  healthy 
as  if  he  had  not  smoked. 

10  Girls  in  their  youthful  ignorance,  and  their  natu- 
ral love  of  gaiety,  sometimes  fancy  that  to  smoke  a 
cigarette  is  a  harmless  aping  of  masculine  folly;  and 
resenting,  perhaps,  Lamb's  assertion  that, 

"  Roses  and  violets  are  but  toys, 
For  the  smaller  sort  of  boys, 
Or  for  greener  damsels  meant, 
Thou  (tobacco)  art  the  only  manly  scent," 

they  claim  the  right  to  indulge  in  the  manly  per- 
fume  ;  but  Tobacco  shows  no  partiality  for  sex.  "  He 
smiles  as  sweetly  on  the  feminine,  as  on  the  mascu 
line,  and  under  cover  of  his  smile  does  them  as  much, 
or  as  some  physicians  affirm  more,  harm. 

ia  Boys  do  not  care  particularly  about  their  com- 
plexions, but  perhaps  they  will  listen  to  this  from 
Dr.  Bartholow  :  "  A  cigarette-smoking  boy  will  not 
make  a  strong  man.  He  will  have  impaired  diges- 
tion, small  and  poor  muscles,  irritable  temper,  and  a 
lack  of  capacity  for  sustained  effort  of  any  kind." 

18  "  The  growth  of  this  habit  is  insidious,  and  its 
effects  ruinous.  The  eyes,  the  brain,  the  nervous 
system,  the  memory,  and  the  power  of  application, 


SHUN  THE  DUDE.  26$ 

are  all  impaired  by  it.  *  It  is  nothing  but  a  cigar, 
ette,'  means  really  '  it  is  nothing  but  poison.'  ' 

14  The  decision  of  the  doctors  is  that  it  makes  boys 
cowardly,  and  lacking  in  decision  and  courage.  It 
interferes  with  ability  to  study.  15  In  the  Polytech- 
nique  school  in  Paris,  the  non-smokers  were  found  to 
be  always  superior  in  their  classes  to  the  smokers. 
Out  of  38  who  smoked,  27  were  found  to  be  actually 
diseased  from  nicotine  poisoning,  and  the  minister 
of  public  instruction  forbade  the  use  of  tobacco  by 
pupils.* 

16  Boys,  shun  the  "  Dude." 


*  An  organ  of  the  liquor  and  tobacco  trade  says :  "  The  to- 
bacco factories  supply  for  every  male  person  in  the  country  ten 
pounds  of  chewing,  and  three  ?.nd  a  half  pounds  of  smoking 
tobacco,  and  one-half  pound  of  sr  ufF.  For  the  six  million  youths 
between  ten  and  twenty  years  of  age,  six  hundred  million  cigar - 
eftes  or  one  hundred  apiece,  are  manufactured." 


CHAPTER   IX, 

BAD   COMPANY  —  TOBACCO   AS  A   DANDY. 

1  THE  character  of  Dandy  is  one  of  Tobacco's  most 
successful  personations.  There  are  some  who  are 
fond  of  Tobacco  at  home  in  the  pipe,  but  who  object 
to  appearing  on  the  street  with  him  in  that  attire  ;  so 
he  rolls  a  himself  up  in  a  cylindrical  form,  8  calls  him- 
self a  cigar,  or  segar,  if  he  apes  foreign  airs,  and 
becomes  at  once  a  dandy,  and  a  so-called  desirable 
friend.  Gentlemen  who  pride  themselves  on  being 
"  mirrors  of  fashion,"  stretch  out  their  jewelled  hands, 
and  take  him  up  with  a  graceful  twirl,  which  has  been 
acquired  by  long  practice,  and  strut  forth,  as  Lamb 
says, 

"  Bound  in  such  a  clotfd 

That  each  man  through  the  heightening  steam 
Does  like  a  smoking  j£tna  seem." 


4  The  dandyism  of  the  cigar  seems  to  have  blinded 
the  eyes  of  some  women  and  girls  so  that  they  permit 
smoking  in  their  presence;  or  perhaps  they  make 
smoking-caps  or  tobacco  -  pouches  for  brother  or 
friends  without  thought  that  they  are  countenancing 
an  evil. 

6  Smoking  promotes  selfishness  and  even  a  disregard 
of  the  rights  of  others.    6  Air  is  our  most  important 
(266) 


TOBACCO  A  DANDY.  26? 

food,  but  the  man  who,  under  no  circumstances, 
would  poison  the  water  which  another  must  drink, 
or  the  food  that  he  must  eat,  7  will  not  hesitate  to 
poison  with  tobacco  smoke  the  air  which  another 
must  breathe.  8  The  father,  who  would  not  put  dust 
into  the  eyes  of  his  child,  or  submit  it  to  the  fumes 
of  sulphur,  will  take  it  in  his  arms  and  puff  tobacco 
smoke  into  its  face. 

And  in  still  more  important  ways  does  the  smoker 
disregard  the  rights  of  others.  '  Emerson  says,  "  A 
man's  son  is  the  son  of  his  thoughts  and  of  his  ac- 
tions," and  asks:  "  How  shall  a  man  escape  from  his 
ancestors,  or  draw  from  his  veins  the  black  drop  which 
he  drew  from  his  father's  or  mother's  life  ? "  The 
scientific  men  who  have  made  this  matter  a  great 
study,  have  found  that  a  10  weakened  constitution  is 
given  to  the  children  of  tobacco  -  users.  "One  of 
them  says :  "  In  no  instance  is  the  sin  of  the  father 
more  strikingly  visited  upon  the  children  than  the  sin 
of  tobacco-smoking."  12  He  goes  on  to  enumerate 
the  weakness  of  nerves,  the  depression  of  mind,  pro- 
ducing melancholy  and  imagination  of  disease,  the 
insanity,  the  dwarfing  of  the  body,  the  suffering,  the 
consumption  and  early  death  which  are  among  the 
inheritances  of  tobacco-smoking  parents. 

13  Dr.  Elam  says :  "  Children  inherit  the  mental  and 
moral  characteristics  and  the  acquired  habits  of  their 
parents  under  a  uniform  law." 

Dr.  Richardson  says :  "  As  only  our  fathers  smoke, 
so  chiefly  by  our  mothers  is  the  integrity  of  the  race 
fairly  preserved." 


268  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

14  Tobacco  under  all  disguises  is  a  spendthrift.  I6  It 
is  in  this  character  only  that  he  fulfils  more  than  he 
promises.  The  expenditure  of  money  for  that  which 
does  not  bring  a  fair  return  is  poor  economy.  The 
expenditure  for  that  which  is  a  physical  injury  is 
morally  wrong.  l6  Those  who  are  friends  with  Tobac- 
co are  spending  their  money  for  that  which  is  not 
bread,  and  their  labor  for  that  which  satisfieth  not. 
It  has  been  stated  that  the  American  Church  gives 
$5,000,000  a  year  to  Foreign  Missions,  and  $25,000,000 
a  year  is  spent  by  Americans  for  tobacco. 

17  The  most  moderate  smoker  will  not  spend  less 
than  $40  a  year  on  his  cigars.  18  A  New  York  mer- 
chant says  that  by  laying  up  the  money  that  he 
would  have  expended  on  cigars,  in  thirty-nine  years 
he  saved  $29,000.  la  Professor  Hinds  calculates  that  a 
young  man,  saving  the  money  he  would  spend  on  to- 
bacco and  buying  books  with  it,  will,  at  the  age  when 
he  should  marry,  have  a  nice  library  worth  from 
$1,000  to  $1,200;  while  the  young  man  who  has 
burnt  his  money  as  a  sacrifice,  not  of  "  a  sweet  smell- 
ing savor,"  to  Tobacco,  will  have  nothing  but  a  20  dis- 
eased body  to  reward  him. 

21  Insurance  agents  say  that  a  very  large  percentage 
of  losses  by  fire  come  from  the  spark  of  the  pipe  and 
the  cigar. 

82  A  spark  from  a  cigar  set  fire  to,  and  totally  de- 
stroyed $3,000,000  worth  of  property.  A  match, 
thrown  away  after  lighting  a  pipe,  resulted  in  the 
destruction  of  a  large  printing  establishment.  Five 
blocks  of  buildings  were  burned,  two  thousand 


DESTROYS  PROPERTY.  269 

employes  thrown  out  of  employment,  and  over 
$1,000,000  worth  of  property  destroyed.  A  young 
man  riding  with  a  young  lady  was  smoking ;  a  spark 
from  his  cigar  set  fire  to  her  dress  and  she  was  burned 
to  death. 

When  I  tell  you,  that  the  sheets,  in  which  the  corpse 
of  a  veteran  user  of  tobacco  had  been  wrapped,  were 
saturated  with  a  fluid  like  tobacco-juice  which  was 
poured  out  upon  the  surface  of  his  body,  to  the 
amount  of  two  pints,  you  will  readily  understand  why 
cannibals  will  not  eat  such  flesh,  and  you  will  be 
ready  to  admit  that  vermin  will  be  killed  by  the 
water  in  which  such  a  person  has  bathed. 

I  have  now  mentioned  all  the  good  qualities  of  To- 
bacco, and  many  of  the  bad  ones.  I  will  not  stop  to 
mention  the  evil  influence  he  wields  as  a  companion 
of  the  pulpit  orator,  nor  of  the  odor  (not  of  sanctity) 
with  which  he  pervades  the  ministerial  library ;  nor 
will  I  speak  of  the  incongruity  of  the  instructor  of 
youth,  teaching  one  thing  and  practicing  another. 
But  I  would  like  to  call  the  attention  of  the  boys, 
who  are  ambitious  of  becoming  men  of  importance 
and  greatness,  to  the  facts  which  prove  that  the 
friendship  of  Tobacco  will  be  in  every  way  a  hindrance 
to  the  accomplishment  of  their  worthy  ambitions. 

18 


CHAPTER  X. 

WICKED  COMPANY — THE  QUACK  DOCTOR. 

1  ONCE  upon  a  time  over  all  the  earth  were 
peace  and  prosperity.  Men  were  strong  and  indus- 
trious, women  were  smiling  and  happy,  and  the 
laughter  of  children  echoed  through  dale  and  over 
hill;  their  cheeks  were  plump  and  rosy,  and  their 
eyes  sparkled  with  health  and  merriment,  and  the 
happy  parents  gathered  around  their  hearths  in  sweet 
contentment.  From  palace  and  cot  arose  songs  of 
joy,  and  in  all  the  land  there  was  not  the  shadow  of 
a  crime.  The  vineyards  bore  delicious  fruits,  whose 
fragrance  filled  the  air.  These  fruits  were  food  for 
man.  With  their  acids  they  cooled  his  blood ; 
with  their  sweets  they  filled  his  body  with  whole- 
some fatness  and  made  the  eyes  of  his  children 
bright  with  health.  Men  picked  the  fruits  and  dried 
them,  and  thus  dried  they  were  wholesome  food, 
capable  of  sustaining  life  and  maintaining  health. 

2Abou  Ben  Hassan,  wandering  in  his  vineyard, 
found  upon  the  ground  a  bottle  from  which  came  the 
beseeching  voice  of  an  imprisoned  spirit  pleading  for 
freedom.  8"Give  me  liberty,  O  most  wise  and  potent 
prince,"  besought  the  spirit,  "  and  I  will  be  your  most 
devoted  slave.  I  have  power  both  in  earth  and  air. 
(270) 


THE  QUACK  DOCTOR.  2/I 

The  winds  of  heaven  obey  me,  and  will  fan  away  from 
you  the  evils  of  the  race.  Your  children  shall  be  born 
under  favoring  stars.  Poverty  and  sickness  and  care 
and  crime  shall  recognize  me,  and  bow  beneath  my 
yoke.  The  blight  of  fever  will  know  my  relieving 
touch,  and  the  deadly  chill  will  yield  to  my  do- 
minion. At  your  command  I  will  return  to  my  glass 
prison,  and  will  only  leave  it  at  your  request." 

Abou  Ben  Hassan  heard  with  charmed  ears,  but 
dared  not  grant  the  favor  besought  until  he  had  con- 
sulted with  his  friends.  To  them  he  repeated  the 
promises  which  had  been  made,  and  seeing  signs  of 
leniency  in  their  faces,  the  spirit  renewed,  with  even 
greater  urgency,  his  plea  for  liberty. 

4  "  I  am  A I  Gohul,  the  Great.  To  me  is  given  the 
power  of  bestowing  gifts  on  man.  I  have>been  im- 
prisoned by  my  deadliest  foe,  who  wills  that  I  shall 
not  make  known  my  wondrous  powers.  If  you  grant 
me  freedom,  I  will  foil  his  selfish  plans.  You  shall 
never  know  storm  nor  blight ;  you  shall  never  fear 
disease  nor  death  ;  your  glory  and  renown  shall  be 
my  chief  care ;  laughter  shall  fill  your  hearts,  and  joy 
dance  attendance  on  your  footsteps." 

These  words  were  vague  to  man,  for  as  yet  crime 
was  unknown,  and  the  faces  of  poverty  and  disease 
had  been  but  dimly  seen  ;  but  trusting  in  these  prom- 
ises, and  lured  on  by  the  hope  of  fulfilling  dearer 
aspirations  for  fame,  Abou  Ben  Hassan  and  his 
friends  opened  the  bottle  and  gave  the  desired  free- 
dom to  the  spirit,  6  who,  creeping  from  his  narrow 
prison,  grew  before  their  wondering  eyes,  rising  like 


272  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

a  vapor  and  filling  all  the  valley,  spreading  out  over 
the  plain  like  a  dense  fog,  and  towering  above  the 
mountains  like  a  cloud. 

Some  would  have  been  frightened  that  he  grew  to 
such  a  prodigious  size,  had  not  Abou  Ben  Hassan 
said,  8 "  That  is  evidence  of  the  truth  of  what  he  has 
told  us.  Did  he  not  say  that  he  had  power  ?  He  will 
hide  us  from  the  eyes  of  our  enemies ;  he  will  be  a 
shield  between  us  and  harm." 

And  men  believed  and  trusted  the  spirit  Gohul, 
and  he  became  a  constant  companion  at  their  feasts 
and  merry-makings,  7  and  they  were  never  so  joyous 
before ;  the  laughter  was  never  so  loud,  nor  the  jest 
so  mirth-provoking,  as  now  that  Gohul  added  to  their 
wit  and  brilliancy.  He  made  their  tricks  and  pranks 
so  ludicrgus,  and  he  seemed  to  knit  the  hearts  of  men 
into  a  bond  of  good-fellowship  never  felt  before.  *  So 
sympathetic,  too,  was  Gohul,  that  eyes  all  unused  to 
weeping  now  shed  tears,  and  hearts  that  were  hard 
and  unfeeling  melted  beneath  his  touch.  He  thus 
became  a  friend  to  the  sorrowful ;  he  soothed  the 
grieving  hearts  of  the  mourners,  and  presided  at  the 
wailing  ceremonies  for  the  dead.  9  Men  found  that 
by  his  presence  their  intellects  were  stimulated  to 
more  brilliancy,  and  he  was  invited  to  inspire  the 
poet  and  the  priest,  to  aid  the  orator  and  the  writer 
10  He  annihilated  fear,  and  was  thus  called  a  friend  to 
the  warrior,  the  scout,  and  the  explorer.  n  He 
silenced  pain,  and  men  besought  his  presence  at  their 
bedsides  when  sick,  and  the  dying  blessed  him  for 
his  soothing  touch.  12  Physicians,  finding  him  so 


WITH   WICKED  COMPANY.  273 

powerful  an  ally,  called  upon  him  often  for  assist- 
ance, 13  until  at  last  he  began  to  arrogate  to  himsell 
the  title  of  physician,  and  said,  14  "  Did  I  not  tell  you 
that  I  would  liberate  you  from  evils  ?  Have  I  not 
been  true  to  my  promises  ?  See  the  glow  upon  the 
cheek  of  health.  I  give  to  wine  the  power  to  bring 
this  healthful  flush  to  the  pale  cheek  of  the  invalid. 
It  is  I  who  make  wine  a  cosmetic  worthy  of  royal 
man  who  has  descended  from  the  gods.  It  is  I  who 
make  of  wine  more  than  a  cosmetic,  who  make  it  a 
cordial,  giving  courage  to  the  heart  and  strength  to 
the  limbs.  It  is  I  who  extract  from  herbs  their  heal- 
ing virtues.  Without  me  they  would  be  of  no  avail. 
I  even  add  to  their  powers,  virtues  of  my  own  which 
are  invaluable  to  man." 

And  the  confidence  of  men  increased  in  Gohul,  and 
'they  continued  to  grow  in  their  intimacy  with  him. 
He  was  a  guest  at  their  tables,  and  even  the  women 
and  children  were  fond  of  him.  He  presided  at 
births  and  weddings,  at  christenings  and  at  funerals. 
16  Among  men  there  was  one  who  had  never  accepted 
the  friendship  of  Gohul,  who  had  always  distrusted 
him  to  some  degree,  and  who  had  employed  his  eyes 
in  constant  watchfulness  over  the  life  and  experiences 
of  those  who  were  the  associates  of  this  spirit.  His 
name  was  Observation.  "  He  noticed  that  although 
children  did  not  like  Gohul  at  first,  they  soon  grew 
to  be  very  fond  of  him,  and  also  that  he  was  too  rude 
a  companion  to  be  the  most  desirable  friend  for  them. 
He  overpowered  their  feeble  strength,  and  made  theii 
feet  tottering  and  unsteady,  and  Observation  said  :  "  It 


THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

is  not  best  to  become  too  intimate  with  Gohul  in 
youth."  "Again,  Observation  noticed  that  Gohul 
was  not  the  wisest  friend  for  delicate  women,  for 
sometimes,  under  his  influence,  they  forgot  to  blush 
at  unseemliness  of  conduct  in  others,  and  acted  un- 
womanly themselves,  and  he  called  the  attention  of 
men  to  these  facts,  and  some  said :  "  Those  actions 
which  are  right  and  becoming  in  men,  do  not  suit  the 
gentle  modesty  of  women  ;  we  prefer  that  Gohul 
should  not  be  intimate  with  our  wives  and  daugh- 
ters." 

19  He  also  noticed  that  there  were  men  who  could 
not  associate  constantly  with  Gohul  because  of  their 
weakness ;    but   these  were  laughed  at  as   unfit   to 
mingle  in  the  strife  for  existence  with  the  strong  and 
manly,  to  whom  Gohul  seemed  ever  an  indispensable 
assistant. 

20  Observation  reported  that  Gohul  was  an  enemy 
and  not  a  friend  ;    that  diseases  were  on  the  increase, 
instead  of  being  lessened  ;  that  because  of  him  crime 
had  sway  in  this  once  peaceful  land ;  that  he  had  put 
tears  in  the  eyes  of  women,  and  murder  into  the 
hearts  of  men. 

81  These  reports  threw  Gohul  into  a  rage.  "  What 
w  does  Observation  know?"  cried  he.  "  He  has  held 
himself  aloof  from  my  company.  He  is  envious  of 
my  success.  He  is  trying  to  take  from  you  all  that  is 
dearest  and  most  prized.  I  will  not  sit  quietly  by  and 
see  you  so  deceived,  nor  will  I  submit  in  silence  to  be 
so  maligned.  There  are  many  among  you  who  have 
experienced  my  healing  touch,  who  have  been  soothed 


MAJORITY  REPORT.  2?$ 

by  my  sympathy,  inspired  by  my  presence.  *3 1  de* 
mand  an  investigation.  Call  together  the  men  who 
know  me,  and  let  them  testify  whether  I  am  an  en- 
emy." This  proposal  seemed  but  just,  and  it  was 
decided  that  Gohul  should  not  be  condemned  un- 
heard. a4  Gohul  demanded  that  a  committee  of  in- 
vestigation should  be  appointed  from  those  who  knew 
him  personally.  But  Observation  said  :  "  That  will 
not  be  just.  ™  These  are  all  prejudiced.  We  should 
have  in  this  committee  those  who  are  unbiased." 

But  Gohul  would  not  consent  to  this,  and  it  "  was 
at  last  agreed  that  all  the  committee  should  be  se- 
lected from  the  acquaintances  of  Gohul,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  one,  whom  Observation  might  select. 

*'  The  committee  consisted  of  the  wise  men,  teach- 
ers, and  physicians,  and  the  one  whom  Observation 
had  selected,  Madame  Science.  88  Much  time  was 
spent  in  examining  the  various  witnesses. 

This  committee  like  other  learned  committees  could 
not  agree,  and  29  a  majority  report  was  first  sub- 
mitted. 

MAJORITY   REPORT. 

"Your  committee  have  the  honor  of  reporting  that 
Gohul  is  personally  known  to  them,  that  he  has  long 
resided  among  us,  and  has  been  well  and  favorably 
known.  He  has  been  the  trusted  and  esteemed  friend 
and  adviser  of  our  best  and  wisest  men.  Our  honored 
judges  have  admitted  him  to  their  inmost  counsels  ; 
our  ministers  have  been  inspired  by  his  spirituality ; 
our  legislators  have  welcomed  him  at  their  detibera- 


276  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

tive  assemblies ;  the  executive  branch  of  our  govern- 
ment  has  received  from  him  efficient  aid ;  he  has 
enlivened  the  feasts  of  royalty,  and  his  brilliancy  is 
manifested  in  the  lucubrations  of  the  poet.  He  has 
not  disdained  the  poor  and  lowly  ;  he  has  been  a  uni- 
versal comforter  in  sorrow  ;  he  has  alleviated  the  suf- 
ferings of  the  sick ;  he  warms  the  freezing ;  he  cools 
the  burning  brow  of  fever  ;  he  stimulates  the  heart ; 
gives  strength  to  the  feeble,  and  supports  in  the  ab- 
sence of  food.  He  is  especially  valuable  to  the  phy- 
sician, and  we  find  that  he  has  been  to  man  all  that 
he  has  claimed  to  be.* 

Respectfully  submitted, 

Drs.  HAND  AND  GULP,  et  al. 


*Dr.  Cart wright,  of  New  Orleans,  writes  in  the  Boston  Med- 
ical Journal  concerning  the  effect  of  tippling  upon  the  medical 
profession.  Some  thirty  years  before  the  time  of  his  writing  he 
went  to  Natchez,  Tenn.  Within  a  radius  of  fifteen  miles  he 
found  only  seventeen  temperate  doctors.  A  much  larger  number 
were  tipplers.  In  1823  the  average  age  of  the  temperance  doc- 
tors was  thirty-four  years,  and  the  five  that  died,  each  lived  to  be 
from  sixty  to  seventy-five  years  of  age.  Two  only  of  the  tipplers 
lived  to  be  gray,  and  they  were  partly  temperate.  All  are  long 
since  dead,  and  their  average  of  life  was  less  than  thirty-five 
years.  Those  who  took  their  drinks  upon  an  empty  stomach  did 
not  reach  thirty  years  of  age.  They  generally  died  before  they 
had  been  practicing  ten  years.  Sixty-two  physicians  settled  in 
Natchez  between  1824  and  1835,  and  of  these,  thirty-seven  were 
temperate,  and  twenty-five  were  tipplers.  Of  the  former,  twenty- 
eight  are  living ;  and  of  the  tipplers  all  are  dead  except  three, 
and  they  have  moved  away.  Thus  we  see  that  those  members  of 
the  medical  profession  who  sing  the  praises  of  alcohol,  and  whc 


MINORITY  REPORT.  277 


By  Madame  Science. 

"  Truth  compels  me  to  dissent  from  the  majority 
report.  "  I  have  employed  my  faithful  assistant, 
Chemistry,  in  making  this  investigation,  and  34 1  find 
that  the  accused,  who  is  known  to  you  as  Gohul,  is 
one  whom  I  have  long  known  as  Alcohol.  3B  He  is  the 
offspring  of  decomposition.  36  When  any  fruits  are 
crushed  together  in  a  mass,  exposed  to  warmth  and 
air,  that  form  of  decomposition  takes  place  which  is 
known  as  fermentation.  In  other  words,  it  is  a  pro- 
cess of  rotting.  "  When  the  fluid  is  separated  from 
this  mass,  fermentation  continues  until,  as  it  is 
claimed,  it  has  cleansed  itself,  and  a  clear  liquid  re- 
sults. This  is  known  as  wine,  and  is  made  chiefly  of 
water  and  alcohol.  i8  The  different  varieties  of  wines 
are  made  from  different  kinds  of  fruits.  The  flavors 
differ  according  to  the  kinds  of  fruit  used,  or  to  the 
different  substances  used  for  flavoring. 

"  To  increase  the  strength  of  the  wine,  sugar  is 
added  before  fermentation.  Where  the  sugar  is  all 
used  up  before  fermentation  ceases,  the  wine  is  sour, 


practice  as  they  teach,  suffer  the  same  penalty  as  the  most  igno- 
rant man  who  indulges  in  poisonous  drinks. 

Did  the  doctors  live  in  vain  ?  They  taught  what  was  not 
true,  and  for  practicing  as  they  taught  they  paid  the  penalty  ol 
death.  They  assisted  Science  to  demonstrate  that  Alcohol,  under 
all  forms,  is  a  poison,  and  that  it  murders  its  own  friends.  But 
is  such  aid  to  Science  a  sufficient  evidence  that  an  educated  mau 
has  not  lived  in  vain  ? 


THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

and  is  called  a  "  dry  wine."      Where  it  is  not  all  used 
up  the  wine  is  sweet,  and  is  known  as  "  fruity." 

40  Wine  is  injurious  according  to  the  amount  of  al- 
cohol which  it  contains, 41  and  even  home-made  wines 
have  a  certain  percentage  of  alcohol.  I  find  that  Al- 
cohol is  not  the  friend  to  man  that  he  has  claimed  to 
be.  42  He  has  deceived  mankind  by  sophistries. 

43  He  has  not  been  a  true  friend  to  the  sick  and 
afflicted,  but  has,  in  fact,  deceived  the  physicians  them- 
selves, causing  the  diseases  which  he  has  pretended  to 
cure.  44  He  is  a  quack  doctor  and  leads  to  quackery. 
The  statements  of  those  who  are  influenced  by  Alco- 
hol ought  never  to  be  received  as  testimony  upon  this 
subject. 

Respectfully  submitted, 

MADAME  SCIENCE. 

16  When  this  report  was  received  Al  Gohul  laughed 
and  boasted  of  his  vindication.  "  Did  not  the  majority 
report  in  my  favor?  46  Who  is  this  insignificant,  un- 
known, unfeeling,  and  cruel  Madame  Science?  She  is 
never  met  in  legislative  halls,  the  best  and  wisest  are 
scarcely  upon  speaking  terms  with  her.  She  is  sel- 
dom admitted  to  the  best  society.  She  is  not  witty, 
nor  brilliant.  47  She  is  a  plain,  plodding  person,  who 
in  truth  is  indebted  to  me  for  valuable  aid,  which  she 
is  not  honorable  enough  to  acknowledge." 

48  And  men  joined  with  Gohul  in  the  laugh  against 
Madame  Science,  and  her  report  was  laid  aside  and  by 
his  friends  forgotten. 


CHAPTER  XL 

WICKED   COMPANY — THE   SHYSTER. 

1  OVER  the  rolling  prairies,  and  up  the  sunny  hill- 
sides climbed  the  golden  grain,  smiling  in  the  light 
of  day,  and  waving  in  the  rollicking  wind.  The  corn 
was  whispering  of  merry-makings,  and  of  food  for 
hungry  men  and  cattle ;  the  wheat  was  dreaming  of 
bread  in  abundance  for  all ;  the  rye  was  boasting  of 
its  wealth  of  strength  for  babes  and  mothers;  the 
sugar-cane  smiled  as  it  thought  of  the  sweets  to  be 
taken  from  its  stem  for  the  delight  of  young  and  old  ; 
and  the  potato  called  from  his  underground  bed  that 
he,  too,  had  food  for  all.  2  Gohul  looked  abroad,  and 
beholding  so  much  of  good,  whispered  to  himself: 
"  Would  that  I  could  turn  this  store  of  health  into  a 
source  of  disease  and  misery." 

8  Then  he  crept  into  the  hearts  of  men,  and  mur- 
mured pleasing  tales  of  how  wisdom,  and  strength, 
and  long  life,  and  joy  could  be  forced  from  the 
wholesome  grains,  and  they  be  made  more  truly  the 
servants  of  man,  to  minister  to  his  delight  and  wishes. 
4  And  men  listened  and  believed,  and  took  the  ripe 
and  health-giving  grains,  and  extracted  the  juices, 
and  subjected  them  to  fermentation,  and  said  :  6  "  Now 
we  have  liquid  bread  that  will  keep  for  years.  It 
will  give  us  health  and  strength ;  it  will  soothe  our 

(279) 


28O  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

pains ;  it  will  cheer  us  when  sad,  it  will  rest  us  when 
weary  ;  and  we  can  give  it  to  our  children  without 
harm."  6  And  the  wicked  spirit  laughed  at  the  evil 
he  was  about  to  do,  but  he  kept  out  of  sight  of  men. 
Disguising  himself,  and  appearing  under  7  a  new  name 
of  Beer,  8  he  denied  that  he  had  any  acquaintance 
with  Gohul,  or  Alcohol,  adopting  the  name  given  by 
Madame  Science.  9  He  even  admitted  that  Alcohol 
was  injurious  under  some  circumstances,  but  he  had 
none  of  the  evil  effects  of  that  spirit.  He  never 
brought  men  to  lie  in  the  gutter,  but  instead  he 
nourished  the  young  and  the  old,  he  nerved  the  arm 
of  toil,  he  gave  .food  to  the  hungry,  and  joy  to  all. 
10  He  was  no  longer  a  fine  aristocrat,  with  a  sparkling 
eye,  and  a  lively  mien.  He  was  a  jolly,  red-faced 
fellow,  with  a  big,  corpulent  body  and  swaggering 
air.  His  face  was  streaked  with  red  lines,  his  eyes 
were  dull  and  sleepy-looking,  and  his  step  was  heavy 
and  slow.  "  Sometimes  he  sat  for  hours  doing  noth- 
ing, thinking  of  nothing.  He  ate  enormously,  and 
18  loved  the  society  of  a  certain  blackamoor  named 
Tobacco.  18  And  he  said  to  men  :  "  See  how  fat  and 
jolly  I  am.  See  how  little  care  I  have.  If  you  are 
my  friends  I  will  make  you  like  myself.  If  you  do 
not  sleep  well,  I  will  give  you  sleep ;  if  you  have  pain, 
I  will  silence  it ;  if  you  eat  more  than  the  cooks  can 
manage,  I  can  force  them  to  do  more  work ;  or  if 
they  can  not  dispose  of  the  surplus,  I  can  whip  up 
the  kidneys  to  get  rid  of  it.  And  not  only  that,  if 
you  have  poverty,  I  can  make  you  forget  it ;  if  you 
are  hungry,  I  will  be  food  for  you  ;  if  you  are  sick,  I 


BEER  SAID,  "I  CURE  DRUNKENNESS."       28 1 

will  cure  you.  I  can  make  you  happy,  without  a 
cent  in  your  pocket,  and  with  your  family  starving 
around  you  and  crying  for  bread.  I  am  an  honest, 
sympathetic  companion,  who  cares  not  that  you 
should  be  rich  or  fine.  I  will  come  with  you  to  the 
humblest  or  lowest  places,  and  will  bless  the  beggar 
as  readily  as  the  prince." 

14  And  for  many  years  men  believed  these  promises 
of  Beer,  and  made  him  a  household  friend  and  com- 
panion. In  the  field  and  shop  he  was  welcomed  as  a 
helpful  friend.  Mothers  sought  his  aid,  and  gave  their 
sanction  to"  his  association  with  their  children.  16  Wise 
men,  who  grieved  over  the  evil  wrought  by  alcohol 
in  wine,  now  said  :  "  Beer  is  good.  Let  us  invite 
him  to  sit  at  our  tables  and  be  our  daily  companion. 
He  will  cure  the  evils  wine  has  wrought." 

For  men  had  at  last  learned  that  16  wine  caused  a 
strange  disease  that  made  them  weak,  and  stagger 
when  they  walked,  that  made  them  fall  into  the  fire 
and  the  water,  and  awakened  many  evil  passions, 
such  as  anger,  and  hatred,  and  murder.  17  And  they 
believed  that  Beer  had  no  such  evil  influence.  They 
said :  18  "  Beer  is  a  cure  for  drunkenness."  And  Beer 
laughed  jollily,  and  said :  "  Yes,  yes,  I  cure  drunken- 
ness." "  But  Observation  noticed  that  drunkenness 
did  not  diminish,  and  all  over  the  land  were  women 
with  breaking  hearts,  and  children  suffering  with 
cold,  and  hunger,  and  neglect.  20  And  again  he  called 
the  attention  of  men  to  these  facts,  and  they  "  said : 
"How  is  this?  we  use  only  beer,  and  yet  men  are 
dying  with  this  disease.  Where  is  the  dreadful 


282  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

cause  ?  "  The  people  hearing  these  reports,  and  see- 
ing these  deaths,  and  knowing  that  drunkenness,  dis- 
ease, and  crime  were  increasing,  "  called  for  an  in- 
vestigation, and  a  committee  was  appointed  to  search 
out  the  hidden  cause. 

23  This  committee,  made  up  of  wise  men,  and  phy- 
sicians, and  Madame  Science,  came  together,  and  ex- 
amined witnesses,  and  rendered  their  reports.  24  This 
committee  was  evenly  divided. 


Your  committee  was  evenly  divided,  and  we  there- 
fore have  the  honor  to  report,  that  after  having  ex- 
amined numerous  witnesses  we  find  that  a6  beer  is 
used  by  all  classes  of  men,  and  especially  by  the 
workmen,  who  are  unanimous  in  the  belief  that  it 
is  a  food.  The  testimony  of  all  who  use  it  is  that, 
when  taken  with  their  meals,  it  increases  their  appe- 
tites, and  aids  their  digestion,  and  at  the  same  time 
enables  them  to  live  on  a  less  amount  of  food.  It 
also  soothes  pain,  and  makes  them  forget  their  sor- 
rows. It  is  prescribed  by  the  oldest  medical  practi- 
tioners in  all  cases  of  debility.  The  small  amount  of 
alcohol  that  is  found  in  beer  is  not  prejudicial,  but  in 
fact  is  beneficial,  being  consumed  in  the  body,  and 
therefore  is  indirectly  a  food.  There  is  therefore  no 
reason  for  the  fanatical  outcry  against  the  use  of 
Beer. 

Respectfully  submitted, 

17  Dr.  WISEACRE, 
Professor  SWELLHEAD, 
Rev.  ESAU  TIMESERVER,  et  al. 


KEPOR  T  A  GAINST  BEER.  383 

M  REPORT  AGAINST  BEER. 

This  branch  of  your  committee  have  the  honor  to 
report  that,  after  examining  many  witnesses,  we  find 
the  following  facts  :  29  That  the  people  have  been  de- 
ceived, for  alcohol  is  truly  to  be  found  in  beer  in  all 
of  its  forms.  In  ale,  and  porter,  and  stout,  it  is  from 
eight  to  fifteen  per  cent.,  while  in  beer  it  varies  from 
three  to  ten  per  cent.  Like  wine,  these  fluids  are  in- 
jurious in  just  the  proportion  in  which  alcohol  is 
found  in  them. 

80  We  have  called  in  Chemistry, 81  who  has  explained 
to  us  the  process  of  making  beer.  "The  wholesome, 
healthful  grain  is  soaked  in  water  until  it  sprouts ; 
this  turns  the  starch  to  sugar.  When  it  has  sprouted 
sufficiently  34it  is  dried  so  rapidly  as  to  kill  the 
germ.  36  It  is  then  ground,  and  warm  water  and  a  bitter 
herb  are  added.  3tf  It  is  then  boiled,  yeast  is  added,  and 
the  whole  mass  is  allowed  to  rot.  87  This  is  the  same 
process  of  decomposition  known  as  fermentation. 
38  Sugar  is  changed  to  alcohol,  and  carbonic  acid  gas  is 
formed,  and  rising  to  the  top  makes  a  froth,  so  that 
when  the  cork  is  taken  out  of  the  bottle  it  appears  to 
boil  out.  39  The  hop  is  added  to  keep  it  from  spoil- 
ing, and  its  bitter  is  a  stimulant  to  the  appetite. 
40  During  the  process  of  fermentation  the  beer  is  put 
into  barrels,  or  bottled.  41  Stout,  ale,  and  porter  are 
similar  to  beer,  except  that  they  contain  a  larger  per- 
centage of.  alcohol.  42  The  evils  of  these  drinks  are 
often  increased  by  adulterations.  43  Chemistry  finds 
in  beer  some  of  the  deadliest  poisons, — arsenic,  strych- 


284  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

nine,  ignatia  amara,  tobacco,  nux  vomica,  opium,  and 
especially  cocculus  indicus.*  44  This  last-named  drug 
claims  attention  on  account  of  its  general  use.  It 
can  produce  death,  and  when  not  taken  in  fatal  doses 
still  gives  rise  to  serious  symptoms, — such  as  un- 
pleasant taste  after  drinking,  burning  in  the  throat 
and  stomach,  weakness  and  partial  paralysis  of  the 
lower  extremities,  nausea  and  frequent  vomiting, 
stupor,  and  sometimes  convulsions. 

46  Beer  is  often  poisoned  by  passing  through  brass 
faucets,  verdigris  being  formed  by  the  action  of  the 
acid  upon  the  metal. 

46 "  The  effects  of  beer  upon  the  habitual  beer-con- 
sumer is  known  by  his  obesity,  his  flushed  face,  em- 
barrassed breathing,  puffy  hands,  and  yellow  con- 
junctiva. 47  He  is  usually  short-lived,  and  the  end  is 
reached  by  hepatic  and  cardiac  disorders.  The  use  of 
malt  liquors  sets  up  fatty  degeneration  of  various  tis- 
sues, notably  of  the  liver  and  heart." 

48  Through  the  action  of  alcohol,  the  nerves  which 
govern  the  size  of  the  capillaries  are  paralyzed,  and 
they  become  distended  with  blood.  49  The  immense 
quantities  of  beer  required  by  the  constant  thirst  of 
the  beer-drinker  fills  the  system  with  fluid,  and  the 
veins  are  full  to  repletion.  60  These  two  facts,  the 
distension  of  capillaries  and  the  watery  state  of  the 

*  Two  men  in  Ithaca,  N.  Y.,  in  the  spring  of  1884,  died  sud- 
denly after  drinking  a  glass  of  beer,  put  up  by  the  Ithaca  Beer 
Company.  The  second  one  died  while  the  post-mortem  was 
being  made  upon  the  first.  The  symptoms  in  both  cases  were 
those  produced  by  cocculus  indicus. 


STOMACH  DISTENDED  ENORMOUSLY.          28c 

blood,  unite  to  make  the  face  full  and  red,  a  color 
that,  in  this  instance,  is  not  one  of  health.  5!  The 
same  conditions  are  the  cause  of  the  "swell  fronts" 
with  which  the  House  (no  longer  beautiful)  becomes 
deformed.  The  stomach  is  distended  enormously,  and 
the  liver  is  increased  in  size  almost  beyond  belief. 
82  A  liver  ordinarily  weighs  about  four  pounds,  &a  but 
the  liver  of  a  beer-drinker  has  been  known  to  reach 
the  incredible  size  of  fifty  pounds. 

64  People  often  tell  you  of  the  wonderful  health  and 
strength  of  the  beer-drinking  nations,  and  point  to 
their  ruddy  faces  and  corpulent  bodies  as  an  evidence 
of  this.  But  we  can  now  understand  why  their  faces 
are  ruddy  and  their  bodies  rotund ;  and  when  we  in- 
vestigate we  find  that  they  are  not  as  strong  as  their 
looks  would  lead  one  to  believe.  They  have  not 
grown  in  muscle,  "they  have  only  stretched  the  body 
so  that  it  will  carry  the  refuse  that  the  servants  have 
not  been  able  to  get  rid  of.  67  The  truth  of  the  state- 
ment that  this  is  waste  matter,  and  not  muscle,  is 
proven  by  the  fact  that  men  who  in  youth  were 
strong,  have,  as  they  increased  in  size  under  the  use 
of  beer,  lost  their  strength. 

68  Physicians,  both  in  Europe  and  America,  unite  in 
the  declaration  that  beer,  even  in  moderate  quanti- 
ties, taken  steadily,  is  injurious  to  the  health.  69  They 
dread  to  perform  a  surgical  operation  on  a  beer- 
drinker,  for  they  know  they  can  not  calculate  on  his 
ability  to  stand  the  shock.  60  If  he  were  an  abstainer 
they  could  estimate  very  closely  his  chances  for  re- 
covery, but  if  he  is  even  a  moderate  drinker  his  sys- 

19 


286  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

tern  may  not  be  able  to  endure  a  very  slight  injury 
in  addition  to  that  which  it  has  suffered  from  beer. 
61  The  unqualified  testimony  is  that  beer  injures  the 
digestion,  produces  dyspepsia,  rheumatism,  and  gout. 
*a  One  English  doctor  says  he  has  often  been  able  to 
cure  rheumatism  and  gout,  simply  by  inducing  his 
patients  to  entirely  abstain  from  their  usual  daily 
draughts  of  beer;  63and  of  1,540  cases  of  gout  only 
one  was  an  abstainer,  "*  and  his  ancestors  were  beer 
and  wine  drinkers. 

""Beer  is  not  food.  Four  hogsheads  of  beer  are 
not  equal  in  nourishment  to  one  loaf  of  bread."  "The 
beer-drinker  is  not  soothed,  but  paralyzed ;  he  is  not 
fed,  but  poisoned ;  he  is  not  cured  of  his  maladies, 
but  he  is  made  diseased  in  every  part,  and  "  wears  his 
heart  on  his  sleeve  bare  to  a  death-wound,  even  from 
a  rusty  nail  or  the  claw  of  a  cat." 
Respectfully  submitted, 

Prof.  LIEBIG,  Chemist, 
Dr.  BARTHOLOW, 
JOHN  BELL,  et  al. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

WICKED   COMPANY — THE  THIEF. 

1  SOMETIMES  Gohul  was  so  strong  that  he  no  longer 
remained  in  his  glass  home,  but  burst  its  walls.  9  Seeing 
this,  men  exclaimed,  in  wonder  and  admiration,  "  Be- 
hold how  strong  is  Gohul.  If  now  we  could  add  this 
strength  to  our  own,  there  is  nothing  that  we  might 
not  do,"  3  and  from  this  desire  arose  an  effort  to  sepa- 
rate him  from  everything  that  might  be  .a  hindrance 
to  his  manifestation  of  strength.  This  was  done,  and 
he  appeared  4  in  a  new  guise,  and  was  known  as  aqua 
vitce,  the  "  water  of  life." 

6  It  was  believed  that  in  this  form  Gohul  was 
a  spirit  sent  from  heaven  to  be  the  friend  of  man,  and 
that  to  him  was  given  power  to  cure  all  the  ills  of  life, 
and  even  to  preserve  from  death.  6  Not  every  one 
thus  believed.  There  were  those  who  thought  him 
to  be  an  evil  spirit,  but  *  his  friends  were  still  many 
and  influential,  and  they  were  fierce  in  their  partisan- 
ship, 8  and  some  of  them  devoted  themselves  to  in- 
troducing him  among  the  people  abandoning  all 
other  business  for  that  purpose.  They  formed  them- 
selves into  large  companies  for  the  manufacturing  of 
beer,  ale,  porter,  and  stout,  and  all  varieties  of  wines, 
and  especially  for  the  manufacture  of  this  newest 

(287) 


288  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

disguise  of  Gohul,  the  heaven-sent  aqua  vitcz.  9  These 
organizations  of  the  friends  of  Gohul  gave  to  the 
leaders  wealth,  and  positions  of  trust,  and  honor, 
10  and  through  his  influence  some  of  them  became 
members  of  legislative  bodies,  and  claimed  to  be  pub- 
lic benefactors. 

11  Gohul  was  now  happy.  12  He  had  obtained  a  foot- 
hold in  the  palace,  the  home,  and  the  church;  and  in 
silence  and  darkness  had  done  many  deeds  of  mischief 
which  the  majority  had  failed  to  trace  to  him.  13  He 
had  stolen  strength  from  the  strong,  and  increased  the 
weakness  of  the  weak.  M  He  had  dimmed  the  spark- 
ling eye,  enfeebled  the  strong  right  arm,  15  and  stolen 
the  cunning  from  the  skilful  fingers.  He  had  deep- 
ened  the  rosy  bloom  of  the  cheek  to  a  dusky  purple, 
and  18  had  added  a  flaming  torch  to  the  tip  of  the 
nose.  IT  He  had  stiffened  the  supple  joints,  until 
they  groaned  with  the  pain  of  being  moved.  18  He 
had  dulled  the  brilliant  mind  and  made  the  witty 
tongue  to  stammer ;  19  he  had  spoiled  the  amiable  tem- 
per, and  despoiled  the  generous  heart ;  ao  stolen  the 
noble  ambition  of  the  young,  foiled  the  undertakings 
of  the  middle-aged,  and  ai  brought  disease  and  prema- 
ture death  upon  men. 

82  But  there  were  still  many  who  were  infatuated 
with  him,  who,  having  once  come  under  the  spell  of 
his  influence,  were  no  longer  able  to  exercise  an  un- 
prejudiced judgment  in  regard  to  him.  2H  By  usurp- 
ing control  over  the  judgments  of  men,  Gohul  did 
them  the  greatest  harm.  24  They  became  his  blind, 
unreasoning  followers,  and  this  wap  the  source  of  his 


SHUN  THE  THIEF.  289 

greatest  power.  ^  They  called  him  king,  and  bowed 
down  before  him,  and  paid  him  homage,  saying,  "  He 
is  a  spirit,  we  will  have  him  to  rule  over  us." 

26  Observation,  who  had  ever  kept  a  watchful  eye 
upon  those  who  associated  intimately  with  this  spirit, 
now  asserted :  "  "  Gohul  is  a  thief  and  a  robber ;  he 
38  steals  from  men  their  health  and  strength  ;  he  steals 
from  your  children  their  food,  and  the  covering  off 
their  poor  emaciated  bodies  ;  he  steals  the  happiness 
from  your  homes,  the  hope  from  the  hearts  of  your 
wives,  and  his  partisans  have  banded  themselves  to- 
gether to  steal  your  hard-earned  gold.  He  steals 
your  sense  of  right,  and  justice,  and  honor ;  he  robs 
you  of  your  sense  of  shame,  of  your  courage,  your 
manliness,  and  your  paternal  affection." 

89  These  assertions  were  stoutly  denied  by  Gohul's  ad- 
vocates. They  30  said,  "  It  is  only  because  men  are  weak 
that  they  do  these  things  ;  a  strong  man  will  never 
be  led  astray."  And  they  cried,  "  Look  at  me,  I  have 
associated  with  Gohul  daily  for  many  years,  and  I  am 
strong,  and  well,  and  honest." 

31  But  very  many  people  agreed  with  Observation, 
and  a  great  disturbance  arose,  "  the  opponents  of 
Gohul  contending  that  he  should  be  banished  from 
the  country,  while  his  33  friends  maintained  that  he 
was  a  law-abiding  citizen,  and  contributed  large  sums 
of  money  to  the  support  of  the  Government,  and  that 
his  rights  should  be  respected. 

84  And  the  people  clamored  for  permission  to  vote 
upon  the  question  of  Gohul's  being  allowed  to  remain 
and  have  rights  as  a  citizen.  36  But  the  friends  and 


WONDERFUL. 

partisans  of  Gohul  defeated  their  wishes.  8'  Then  the 
people  cried  with  a  voice  that  was  heard  throughout 
the  land,  "  Vox  POPULI,  Vox  DEI  ":  "  THE  VOICE 
OF  THE  PEOPLE  is  THE  VOICE  OF  GOD."  "  Are  not 
we  the  people  ?  37  Is  not  the  Government  formed  of  the 
people,  by  the  people,  and  for  the  people  ?  Who  then 
is  this  Gohul  who  robs  the  people  of  their  rights  ? 
Listen  to  what  we  have  been  taught  by  Medicine, 
Chemistry,  and  Science." 

Chemistry  tells  us, 3fi "  This  aqua  vitce  is  not  the 
water  of  life ;  it  is  aqua  mortis,  the  water  of  death  ; 
it  is  obtained  by  fermentation  followed  by  dis- 
tillation." We  all  know  that  fermentation  is  a  rotting 
process,  39  and  distillation,  which  is  called  a  refining 
process,  does  not  change  the  properties,  but  increases 
the  strength  and  injuriousness  of  alcohol. 

From  *°the  fermented  products  of  rye,  corn,  and 
potatoes,  whisky  is  distilled ;  from  4I  molasses,  rum ; 
from  the  distillation  of  42  wines,  brandies  are  made. 
Chemistry  48  shows  us  that  these  are  all  largely  adul- 
terated with  poisons,  and  also  proves  that  liquors 
having  the  same  flavors  can  be  made  wholly  from 
drugs. 

44  Science  echoes  strongly  the  cry  of  Observation 
that  Alcohol  is  a  thief.  45  He  begins  his  theft  as  soon 
as  he  is  introduced  into  the  system,  biting  the  tongue, 
and  stealing  from  the  mucous  membrane  of  the  mouth 
its  moisture,  leaving  it  dry  and  corrugated.  46  He 
sets  up  a  cry  for  water,  a  cry  which  he  keeps  up  wher- 
ever he  goes.  Down  the  oesophagus  into  the  stomach 
he  goes  crying  "  give  me  water,"  and  47  taking  it  from 


THE  THIEF  IN  THE  BLOOD.        29 1 

all  the  tissues  as  he  passes  along.  He  steals  it  from 
the  mucous  membrane  of  the  stomach, 48  producing 
an  inflamed  condition  known  as  gastric  catarrh, 
ulcerous  patches,  and  finally  a  discharge  of  morbid 
matter  tinged  with  blood.  49  Leaving  the  stomach, 
alcohol  passes  directly  into  the  blood  and  is  carried 
at  once  to  the  liver.  "°  He  is  at  once  recognized  as 
an  enemy,  and  an  effort  is  made  to  get  rid  of  him. 
11  This  effort  makes  the  liver  at  first  grow  larger,  but 
at  length,  weakened  by  its  long-continued  labors,  &f  it 
gets  smaller  and  harder  and  has  little  knots  on  the 
surface,  which  constitute  a  disease  known  as  cirrhosis 
or  hob-nailed  liver. 

"  Albumen  is  a  necessary  constituent  of  all  of  the 
tissues,  but  to  be  of  use  it  must  be  in  a  soluble  con- 
dition. "  Alcohol  hardens  the  albumen  wherever 
they  come  in  contact,  and  then  it  is  spoiled  for  the 
purposes  of  nutrition.  The  albumen  of  the  blood  is 
hardened  so  that  it  can  not  pass  through  the  walls  of 
the  blood-vessels  to  nourish  the  body.  "Alcohol 
takes  the  water  from  the  red  corpuscles  and  leaves 
them  shrivelled  and  hard,  and  with  less  capacity  to 
take  up  the  needed  oxygen,  sometimes  making  them 
cling  together  so  that  they  can  not  get  through  the 
narrow  halls  of  the  capillaries.  5*  Through  the  blood 
alcohol  is  carried  to  the  kidneys,  and  they,  too,  make 
an  effort  to  get  rid  of  him,  and  they  undergo  fatty 
degeneration,  the  membranes  of  the  kidneys  lose 
their  integrity,  and  that  dreadful  disorder,  Bright's 
disease,  is  the  result. 

"  Alcohol   is   an  especial  foe  to  the  heart.     68  In 


2Q2  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

ordinary  health  the  heart  of  an  adult  beats  about 
100,000  times  in  twenty-foui  hours,  69  each  stroke 
raising  nearly  six  ounces  of  blood,  making  60  600,000 
ounces  of  blood  in  a  day.  It  does  this  year  after  year 
during  the  whole  of  life.  61  It  is  stated  that  the  daily 
work  of  the  heart  is  equal  to  one-third  of  that  done 
by  all  the  muscles,  62  and  that  if  its  energy  were  ex- 
pended in  raising  its  own  weight  straight  up  in  the 
air  it  would  be  raised  to  a  distance  of  20,000  feet. 

88  Alcohol  causes  the  heart  to  work  faster.  '4  If  a 
man  drink  but  one  fluid  ounce  of  alcohol  a  day,  his 
heart  will  beat  430  times  more  than  it  would  without 
alcohol.  65  Eight  ounces  will  make  it  beat  about 
25,000  times  more  than  normal;  that  is,  instead  of 
beating  100,000  times  in  twenty-four  hours,  it  will 
beat  125,000  times.  66  It  is  often  said  that  two  ounces 
of  alcohol  can  be  taken  in  a  day  without  harm. 
17  This  is  about  what  would  be  taken  in  a  pint  and  a 
half  of  ale,  or  five  glasses  of  sherry  wine ;  but  these 
two  ounces  of  alcohol,  evenly  distributed  throughout 
the  day,  will  raise  the  number  of  beats  of  the  heart 
by  6,000. 

68  This  hurry  of  the  heart  is  to  send  out  of  the  sys- 
tem that  which  it  recognizes  to  be  a  poison.  But 
that  is  not  the  only  reason  of  its  haste*.  69  The  heart, 
at  every  beat,  sends  the  blood  through  the  arteries 
until  it  reaches  the  capillaries,  where  it  receives  a 
check.  70  It  can  not  run  so  fast  through  these  tiny 
passageways.  The  walls  of  the  capillaries  are  firm 
and  resist  undue  pressure  of  the  blood,  and  it  is 
therefore  compelled  to  go  slow.  71  This  tonic  state 


BANDED  THEMSELVES  TOGETHER.  29- 

of  the  capillaries  is  overcome  by  the  paralyzing  effect 
of  alcohol  upon  the  nerves,  and  the  blood  rushes 
through  the  capillaries  with  increased  speed,  ™  and 
the  heart,  feeling  that  resistance  is  removed,  has  no 
longer  a  guide  to  govern  it  and  keep  it  beating  regu- 
larly, and  so,  under  the  irritation  it  feels  at  the  pres- 
ence of  alcohol,  and  the  absence  of  the  resistance  of 
the  capillaries,  it  runs  faster  and  faster  until  the  enemy 
has  been  driven  out,  and  then  it  sinks  down  worn 
out  and  enfeebled. 

73  Medicine  says  that  "  many  diseases  that  were 
formerly  supposed  to  be  benefited  by  alcohol  are 
less  fatal  if  alcohol  is  not  used.  74  In  case  of  general 
debility,  and  in  convalescence  from  continued  fevers, 
milk  is  found  to  be  far  preferable  to  any  alcoholic 
preparation.  75  Physicians  acknowledge  that  drunk- 
enness has  often  been  caused  by  following  the  pre- 
scriptions which  contained  alcohol."  76  And  the 
women,  who  had  been  the  greatest  sufferers  through 
the  evils  of  alcohol,  believed  the  statements  of  Sci- 
ence, Chemistry,  and  Medicine,  "and  banded  them- 
selves together  to  fight  this  arch  deceiver,  and  prayed 
mightily  to  the  Great  Father  of  all,  that  they  might 
be  enabled  to  wrest  the  sceptre  from  his  hand,  and 
overthrow  his  dominion  over  mankind. 

78  Then  a  great  tumult  arose ;  the  people  were  de- 
termined to  banish  Alcohol  from  the  land,  and  to  de- 
stroy his  power;  79  and  the  rulers  seeing  this  great 
commotion  asked :  "  What  is  the  cause  of  this  dis- 
turbance?" 80And  the  people  replied:  "  Teach  us 
and  our  children  what  are  the  crimes  for  which  Alco- 
hol is  responsible." 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

WICKED   COMPANY — THE   MURDERER. 

HEARING  this  demand  of  the  people,  Gohul  threw 
off  his  mask,  and  appearing  in  his  true  character 
exclaimed : 

1  "'To  do  aught  good  never  will  be  our  task, 
But  ever  to  do  ill  our  sole  delight, 
As  being  the  contrary  to  His  high  will 
Whom  we  resist.     If  then  His  Providence 
Out  of  our  evil  seek  to  bring  forth  good, 
Our  labor  must  be  to  pervert  that  end, 
And  out  of  good  still  to  find  means  of  evil.'  " 

s  These  sentiments,  so  boldly  expressed,  aroused  a 
general  feeling  of  indignation,  and  the  s  Government 
was  forced  to  appoint  a  committee,  to  which  was 
given  power  to  send  for  persons  and  papers.  4  This 
committee  consisted  of  representatives  from  the  pro- 
fessional, moral,  and  scientific  portions  of  the  com- 
munity, and  the  legislative  and  judicial  branches  of 
the  Government. 

REPORT   OF  THE   COMMITTEE. 

Your  Committee  have  the  honor  to  report  that 
they  complied  most  carefully  with  the  instructions 
given  them,  B  and  have  examined  manufacturers  of 
alcoholic  beverages,  and  their  books  and  their  meth- 
ods of  preparing  such  beverages,  and  other  parties 
(294) 


THE  MURDERER.  295 

who  were  able  to  give  information  upon  this  all- 
important  subject.  We  have  called  on  Madame  Sci- 
ence, and  she,  after  a  long  and  careful  investigation, 
reports  as  follows : 

REPORT  OF   MADAM   SCIENCE. 

8  "  I  find  that  whisky  contains  from  forty  to  fifty  per 
cent,  of  alcohol.  That  brandy  has  about  fifty-five 
per  cent.,  and  wine  from  five  to  twenty  per  cent. 
'  Beer  has  from  three  to  eight  per  cent.,  while  ale  and 
porter  are  much  stronger.  8  They  are  all  harmful, 
according  to  the  amount  of  alcohol  they  contain. 
"  Alcohol  is  always  a  product  of  death  and  decay. 
10  It  originates  in  the  decomposition  or  rotting  of 
vegetable  matter,  "  and  for  its  production  needs 
warmth,  sugar,  and  moisture.  ia  In  the  fermentation 
of  grains  the  starch  is  changed  to  sugar,  and  this  to 
alcohol.  1S  The  legitimate  uses  of  alcohol  are  to  be 
found  in  the  mechanical  and  chemical  arts  ;  and  there 
are  those  who  assert  that  even  in  these  it  is  not  abso- 
lutely necessary.  14  It  is  always  injurious  to  man.  15 1 
find  that  man  is  the  only  animal  who  desires  any  other 
drink  than  water,  and  I  also  find  that  18  water  is  the 
only  fluid  which  quenches  thirst.  17  The  desire  for 
other  drinks  is  abnormal.  18  ALCOHOL  IS  NOT  A 
FOOD.  It  does  not  supply  salts,  albumen,  case- 
ine,  fibrin,  nor  any  of  the  substances  which  go  to 
build  up  the  body.  It  is  not  changed  in  the  body. 
It  goes  in  as  alcohol  and  is  eliminated  as  alcohol.  It 
therefore  can  not  be  a  food.  On  the  contrary,  IT  IS 
"  UNDER  ALL  CIRCUMSTANCES  A  POISON,  20  AND 


296  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL 

\  POISON  WHOSE  EFFECTS  ARE  CUMULATIVE.  21  If 
taken  continually,  even  in  small  doses,  it  produces 
decay  and  leads  to  paralysis,  and  tends  toward  death. 
88  It  is  all  the  more  injurious  because  it  works  so  in- 
sidiously that  its  evil  consequences  are  often  23  not 
recognized,  either  by  the  victim  or  his  friends  until 
they  are  beyond  repair. 

'•  It  saturates  every  tissue.  The  stomach,  the  spleen, 
the  kidneys,  the  spinal  cord,  the  liver,  the  lungs,  and 
the  brain  are  all  a*  engorged  with  blood  by  its  paralyz- 
ing influence  upon  the  nerves  which  govern  the  size 
and  tonicity  of  the  capillaries.  2a  After  a  time  these 
changes,  at  first  temporary,  become  permanent,  and 
incurable  diseases  of  these  organs  ensue. 

88  "  Alcohol  prevents  the  red  corpuscles  taking  up 
oxygen,  and  as  a  consequence  the  lungs  are  affected. 
27  The  delicate  membranes  of  the  lungs  are  also 
hardened,  so  that  osmosis  is  interfered  with,  and 
from  this  twofold  cause,  the  28  carbonic  acid  gas  is 
retained  in  the  air-cells,  and  returned  to  the  system 
to  poison  it.  29  Every  organ  of  the  body  is  wrapped 
in  a  membrane.  The  bones  have  their  periosteum, 
the  muscles  their  perimysium,  the  intestines  are 
folded  in  a  membrane  called  the  peritoneum,  the  brain 
wrapped  in  membranes,  and  so  too  is  each  minute 
cell  and  fibrillcc  of  the  body.  30  Most  of  these  mem- 
branes are  filters  through  which  the  nourishment 
must  pass  to  reach  the  tissues.  To  work  perfectly 
they  should  be  charged  with  water.  31  Alcohol  lays 
his  destroying  hand  upon  those  delicate  membranes 
and  abstracts  the  water,  and  they  become  thick  and 


HE  POISONS  THE  TISSUES. 


297 


hard,  so  that  tHe  nourishing  part  of  the  blood  can 
not  filter  through  to  reach  the  tissues ;  or  they  be- 
come too  porous,  and  allow  the  precious  foods  of  the 
body  to  leak  out  and  be  cast  away ;  thus  depriving 
the  system  not  only  of  health,  but,  little  by  little,  of 
life  itself.  32  The  whole  repair  and  growth  of  the 
body  depends  upon  the  integrity  of  the  membranes. 
If  they  are  too  thick,  they  become  loaded  with 
foreign  material  and  prevent  repair ;  if  too  porous, 
the  33  fluids  may  accumulate  in  the  closed  cavities 
and  dropsy  be  the  result.  i4  The  engorgement  of 
the  cutaneous  capillaries  gives  a  feeling  of  warmth, 
but  there  is  no  actual  increase  of  bodily  heat.  85  On 
the  contrary,  the  heat  radiating  from  the  surface  cre- 
ates a  cooler  condition  of  the  internal  organs.  36  This 
is  demonstrated  by  the  thermometer,  which  shows 
that  in  the  various  stages  of  intoxication  there  is  a 
continual  fall  of  bodily  heat  from  one  to  three  de- 
grees. 87  It  takes  three  or  four  times  as  long  to  regain 
the  normal  heat  as  it  did  to  lose  it ;  88  therefore,  there 
is  a  chilly  feeling  in  getting  over  the  effects  of  alco- 
holic poisoning  called  intoxication. 

"  The  statement  that  alcohol  checks  waste  is  true. 
19  We  have  already  seen  that  it  does  not  permit  car- 
bonic gas  to  be  sent  off  through  the  air-cells,  40  but 
compels  it  to  be  retained  in  the  system  to  poison  it. 
4  It  hardens  the  membranes  so  that  they  will  not 
allow  albuminous  materials  to  pass  through,  for  the 
nourishment  of  the  tissues  ;  nor  the  waste  matter  to 
pass  out  from  the  tissues,  42  so  that  the  body  is  filled 
with  waste  material  which  is  wrongly  called  fat.  4S  Al] 


298  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

the  processes  of  life  are  full  of  change,  and  anything 
which  interferes  with  this  change  is  injurious,  because 
it  interferes  with  vital  action.  44  To  check  the  ordi- 
nary waste  of  the  system  is  to  tie  the  body  to  its 
own  corpse.  45  Alcohol  is  not  a  food,  for  it  dimin- 
ishes nutrition.  48  It  apparently  increases  digestion 
by  inducing  a  superficial  congestion  of  the  mucous 
membrane  of  the  stomach,  and  a  dilation  of  the  arte- 
rioles  which  will  ultimately  produce  gastric  catarrh. 

47  "  The  delicate  membranes  of  the  nerves  do  not  es- 
cape  the  shrivelling  touch  of    alcohol,  but  are  de- 
prived   of    their  moisture,   and  becoming  hard  and 
shrunken  press  on  the  nerves,  causing  neuralgic  pains. 

48  "  The  power  of  the  nerves  to  transmit  messages  to 
the  brain  is  lost,  and  deadly  injury  may  be  done  to  a 
part  of  the  body  without  the  man  being,  at  the  time, 
aware  of  it.     49  Men,  under  the  influence  of  alcohol, 
are  frozen  because  their  nerves  do  not  warn  them  of 
their  danger,  and  also  because  the  brain  can  not  con- 
trol the  working  of  the  limbs.   The  brain  is  no  longer 
governor.    50  The  brain  itself  is  partially  destroyed  by 
alcohol.     All  the  principles  of  which  brain  matter  is 
composed   (with   the  exception    of   the   albuminous 
framework)   are   soluble   in   warm  alcohol,   and   the 
framework  becomes  hardened,  so  that  the  brain  of  a 
drinker  not  only  actually  decreases  in  size,  but  be- 
comes hardened  in  consistency. 

"  The  following  is  a  partial  list  of  the  diseases  caused 
by  alcohol :  61  Inflammation  of  stomach,  congestion 
of  liver,  diabetes,  inflammation  and  palpitation  and 
fatty  degeneration  of  heart,  gout,  premature  old  age, 


REPOR7  OF  EXPERIENCE. 


2Q5 


irritable  temper,  indecision,  cowardice,  rheumatism; 
asthma,  pleurisy,  atrophy  of  liver,  fatty  degeneration 
of  kidneys,  dropsy,  Bright's  disease,  consumption, 
sleeplessness,  epilepsy,  neuralgia,  apoplexy,  inflamma- 
tion of  brain  and  spinal  cord,  paralysis,  delirium  tre- 
mens,  moral  perversion,  softening  of  brain,  idiocy, 
insanity,  and  madness." 

REPORT  OF  EXPERIENCE. 

We  have  also  examined  M  Experience,  and  he  re- 
ports as  follows : 

"I  find  that  alcohol  does  not  increase  "a  man's 
strength  and  working  ability.  Men  who  train  as 
athletes  have  learned  that  they  must  avoid  alcohol 
if  they  wish  to  be  successful.  I  find  that  under  all 
circumstances  men  can  endure  exposure  and  work 
harder  under  extremes  of  heat  and  cold ;  keep  in  bet- 
ter health  and  have  sounder  judgment,  when  not 
using  alcohol,  than  they  can  when  using  it  ever  so 
moderately.  In  shipwrecks,  in  Arctic  explorations, 
in  long-continued  exhausting  labor,  the  advantage  is 
always  with  the  abstainer  from  alcohol.  I  find  that 
64  rheumatism,  and  other  difficulties  which  are  pro- 
duced by  alcohol,  can  often  be  cured  by  totally  ab- 
staining from  it,  without  giving  any  other  remedies, 
I  find  that  even  moderate  drinkers  are  more  suscep- 
tible to  the  influence  of  epidemics.  55  In  Tiflis,  a 
city  of  20,000,  in  an  epidemic  of  cholera  every  drunk- 
ard died.  &6 1  find  that  drinking  men  are  never  so 
sure  to  recover  from  surgical  operations  as  abstainers. 
I  find  67  that  men  who  do  not  use  alcohol,  in  any  form, 


300  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

are  much  less  affected  by  changes  in  climate  than  are 
those  who  are  addicted  to  its  use,  and  are  not  subject 
to  the  dangerous  and  troublesome  diseases  which  af- 
fect the  drinker.  &8 1  find  that  the  majority  of  sun- 
strokes occur  among  those  who  use  alcohol  in  some 
form;  that  a  great  number  of  the  diseases  and 
other  ills  from  which  men  suffer  are  caused  by  alco- 
hol ;  and  that  the  B9  water-drinker  loses  nothing  and 
gains  everything." 

REPORT  OF  HEREDITY. 

80  Heredity  being  inquired  of  in  regard  to  the  ef- 
fects of  alcohol  upon  posterity  replies  :  61 "  I  find  that 
children  inherit  the  mental  and  moral  attributes  of 
their  parents,  and  I  find  that  they  especially  inherit 
the  acquired  vices  of  parents.  The  Chinese  recog- 
nize this  truth  and  inquire  not  only  into  the  facts  of 
crime,  but  also  into  the  temperament  and  physical 
habits  of  the  accused,  and  of  his  ancestry,  knowing 
that  criminals  beget  criminals.  I  find  that  drunkards 
beget  drunkards.  e2  That  the  use  of  alcohol  in  a  man 
produces  physical  and  moral  degeneracy  in  his  pos- 
terity. Drunkards  beget  idiots.  Idiocy  is  a  manu- 
factured article.  Among  intemperate  people  the 
children  may  seem  intelligent  up  to  a  certain  age,  and 
then  lose  their  minds.  6a  I  find  that  convulsive  dis- 
eases, hysteria  and  irritability,  are  also  inherited  from 
drunken  parents.  Even  if  the  child  have  not  the 
same  habits  of  the  parent,  it  will  have  a  faulty  and 
defective  organization.  Of  those  who  are  well  nour- 
ished otherwise,  but  who  use  alcohol,  the  children 


REPORT  OF  ECONOMY.  30! 

may  be  weak,  nervous,  excitable,  and  prone  to  morbid 
conditions.  But  in  the  children  of  those  who  drink, 
not  having  sufficient  food,  the  condition  is  still  worse 
1  find  that  in  thousands  of  cases  where  people  being 
temperate  have  children,  and  afterward  becoming  in- 
temperate, have  other  children,  the  latter  become 
intemperate  more  frequently  than  the  older  children 
in  a  proportion  of  five  to  one." 

REPORT   OF   ECONOMY. 

64  The  testimony  of  Economy  is  as  follows  :  "  I  find 
that  the  8D  production  of  alcohol  destroys  enormous 
quantities  of  wholesome  food.  88  It  employs  men  in 
a  debasing  business  which  deprives  the  honorable  in- 
dustries of  the  world  of  the  service  of  many  work- 
men. "7 1  find  that  the  making  of  alcoholic  drinks  is 
expensive,  and  that  $800,000,000  a  year  is  expended 
in  the  purchase  of  these  poisonous  beverages,  "thus 
robbing  families  of  money  for  food  and  clothing  and 
other  necessaries  of  life.  I  find  that  the  drinkers  of 
89  alcoholic  drinks  lose  much  valuable  time  by  drunk- 
enness, sickness,  and  idleness ;  that  lives  are  lost, 
70  some  by  being  shortened  by  the  use  of  alcohol,  others 
by  the  deprivation  which  has  come  through  the  use 
of  alcohol  by  those  who  should  have  provided  them 
with  the  necessaries  of  life,  others  by  accidents  which 
have  occurred,  directly  or  indirectly,  through  the  use 
of  alcohol.  "  I  find  that  it  costs  the  country  vast 
sums  of  money  to  provide  police  to  look  after  those 
who  are  accustomed  to  drink  ;  to  employ  legal  ser- 
vices in  trials  for  crimes  occurring  through  alcohol  ; 

20 


302  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

in  building  prisons  to  confine  criminals  made  such  by 
alcohol ;  to  build  insane  asylums  for  those  who  are 
made  such,  directly  or  indirectly,  by  alcohol ;  to  build 
and  maintain  idiot  asylums,  poorhouses,  institutions 
for  vagrants  and  outcasts,  who,  if  it  were  not  for  al- 
cohol, would  be  useful  citizens.  I  find  that  there  are 
at  least  600,000  drunkards  in  the  United  States.  "  I 
find  that  at  least  60,000  drunkards  die  every  year, 
73  that  100,000  men  and  women  under  the  influence  of 
intoxicating  drinks  are  sent  annually  to  prison,  and 
T4  200,000  children  to  the  poorhouse  ;  that  75  300  mur- 
ders yearly  are  committed  under  alcohol,  and  400  sui- 
cides ;  76  that  200,000  orphans  are  yearly  left  to 
charity.  "I  find  that  it  costs  the  United  States 
$60,000,000  every  year  to  support  pauperism  and 
crime  caused  mostly  by  alcohol." 

REPORT  OF  MORALITY. 

78  Morality  being  questioned  reports  as  follows : 
*  I  find  that  in  "  drunkards  the  moral  sense  is  espec- 
ially perverted.  I  find  that  the  use  of  alcohol  re- 
moves, gradually,  the  restraints  which  80  conscience 
or  a  sense  of  decency  imposes.  That  man  under  the 
influence  of  intoxicating  drinks  does  and  says  things 
at  which,  in  his  sober  moments,  he  blushes.  81  His 
reason  is  perverted,  and  he  is  incapable  of  forming 
correct  judgments  on  minor  matters,  and  much  more 
so  on  matters  of  importance.  8a  This  vitiation  of 
judgment  is  the  cause  of  many  of  the  accidents  for 
which  alcohol  is  accountable.  M  In  time  of  danger 
the  captain  of  the,  vessel  takes  a  drink,  and  his  reason 


REPORT  OF  MORALITY  303 

being  thereby  impaired,  he  no  longer  gives  judicious 
orders,  and  wreck  and  death  are  the  result. 

"  The  engineer  who>  when  sober,  is  watchful  and 
careful,  under  the  influence  of  a  slight  amount  of 
alcohol,  becomes  careless  and  foolhardy,  runs  his 
train  into  danger  and  causes  great  loss  of  life. 

"  Then  I  find  that  alcohol  loosens  the  passions,  and 
under  its  "influence  the  'gentle '-man  becomes  a 
fiend,  beating,  cursing,  and  perhaps  killing  wife  or 
child,  and  awakening  next  day  to  a  knowledge  of  a 
crime  which  will  fill  him  with  remorse  to  the  day  of 
his  death.  "The  statement  of  the  grand  jury  of  a 
great  city  is  that  nine-tenths  of  the  crimes  entered 
were  due  to  alcohol. 

"  I  find  that  because  of  the  inexorable  demands  of 
the  appetite  of  the  drunkard  for  alcohol,  and  the 
immense  gains  accruing  from  86  gratifying  this  de- 
mand, men's  moral  sense  and  love  of  humanity 
are  so  perverted,  that  they  are  willing  to  engage  as  a 
business  in  the  sale  of  that  which  they  know  is  put- 
ting an  enemy  into  a  man's  mouth  to  steal  away  his 
brains ;  that  which  they  are  aware  will  take  the 
bread  from  the  mouths  of  starving  children,  and  de- 
prive wives  of  the  care  and  protection  of  their  hus- 
bands, and  destroy  every  noble  impulse  of  the  man 
himself.  I  find  that  they  are  even  willing  to  sell 
liquor  to  women  and  children,  and  that  having  made 
drunkards  of  them,  they  are  not  willing  to  bear  the 
blame  and  expense  of  the  results  of  their  own  labor 
They  turn  the  poor  poisoned  inebriate  out  into  the 
street  to  freeze,  or  starve,  or  die,  while  they  live  upon 


304  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

the  proceeds  of  his  toil,  or  from  the  pawning  of  the 
clothes  of  his  children. 

17  "  I  find  that  women  who  use  alcohol  lose  their 
charm  of  womanhood,  that  they  are  no  longer  mod- 
est, pure,  and  delicate,  but  become  profane,  immod- 
est, lying  in  the  streets  without  a  blush,  forgetting 
their  helpless  babes,  caring  nothing  for  home,  or 
decency,  becoming  filthy,  homeless  outcasts  and  wan- 
derers, criminals  themselves,  and  inciting  to  crime. 

"  I  find  that  children  who  use  alcohol  are  as  degraded 
as  children  can  possibly  become,  and  show  marks  of 
hardness  and  degradation,  that  it  would  seem  impos- 
sible for  a  child  to  reach. 

"  I  find  that  where  alcohol  is  prohibited  crimes  are 
almost  unknown.  88  A  city  of  10,000  inhabitants 
with  no  grog-shop,  has  but  one  policeman,  and  little 
use  for  him.  Places  of  3,000  inhabitants  without 
liquor -saloons  have  neither  police,  criminals,  nor 
paupers.  In  such  communities  I  find  nothing  lack- 
ing because  of  the  absence  of  alcohol.  Health,  mor- 
als, prosperity,  happiness,  legitimate  business,  relig- 
ion, all  flourish  without  the  contrasting  elements  of 
vice,  crime,  indigence,  insanity,  incendiarism,  fatal 
affrays,  and  degraded  manhood. 

"  I  find  that  89  the  use  of  fermented  wine  at  the  sac- 
rament  is  often  attended  with  serious  downfalls  of 
those  who  have  striven  to  get  free  from  the  chain  of 
the  monster  appetite,  and  I  believe  that  the  church 
which  continues  to  use  it,  tampers  with  its  moral 
sense,  and  with  the  temporal  and  eternal  welfare  ol 
those  weak  ones  who  have  committed  themselves  to 
the  care  of  the  church  for  help  in  a  fearful  struggle 


THE  GOVERNMENT  CAN  PROHIBIT.  305 

for  life,  and  also  endangers  the  safety  of  the  young 
who  take  their  first  sip  of  wine  at  the  table  of  the 
Lord. 

"  CERTAINLY  NO  OTHER  THAN  UNFERMENTED  WINE 
SHOULD  BE  USED  AT  THE  SACRAMENTAL  TABLE." 

Your  committee  fully  endorse  all  of  the  above 
findings,  and  they  are  fully  satisfied  that  it  would  be 
better  for  the  Government,  and  for  the  people,  if  the 
sale  and  manufacture  of  alcohol,  for  any  other  than 
mechanical  and  chemical  purposes,  were  prohib- 
ited and  abolished,  and  your  committee  believe  that 
the  Government,  as  suggested  by  the  Supreme  Court, 
has  the  power,  under  the  Constitution,  not  only  to 
regulate,  but  also  to  prohibit  the  sale  and  manufac- 
ture of  alcoholic  beverages.  We  would  also  call 
your  attention  to  the  fact  that  many  of  the  so-called 
patent  medicines,  bitters,  and  hop  bitters  are  often 
the  most  dangerous  and  deadliest  forms  of  alcohol. 
We  also  concur  in  the  opinions  expressed  by  the 
medical  profession  that  alcohol  should  be  classed 
with  the  most  dangerous  poisons,  never  to  be  used 
except  when  prescribed  by  a  wise  and  conscientious 
physician.  Respectfully  submitted, 

TRUTHFULNESS, 

CHARITY, 

GOODNESS. 

When  the  report  of  this  committee  was  made  pub 
lie,  Gohi.il  called  together  his  followers ; 
"  And  round  he  throws  his  baleful  eyes, 
Mixed  with  obdurate  pride  and  steadfast  hate. 


306  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

He  views  the  dismal  situation  waste  and  wild ; 
No  light ;  but  rather  darkness  visible 
Served  only  to  discover  sights  of  woe, 
Regions  of  sorrow,  doleful  shades,  where  peace 
And  rest  can  never  dwell ;  hope  never  comes 
That  comes  to  all ;  but  torture  without  end. 

And  with  bold  words, 
Breaking  the  horrid  silence,  thus  began  : 

'  What  though  the  field  be  lost, 
All  is  not  lost ;  the  unconquerable  will, 
And  study  of  revenge,  immortal  hate, 
And  courage  never  to  submit  or  yield, 
And  what  is  else  not  to  be  overcome ; 
That  glory  never  shall  their  wrath  or  might 
Extort  from  me.' 

And  thus  answer'd  soon  his  bold  compeer : 
.  .  .  .  '  To  bow  and  sue  for  grace 
With  suppliant  knee,  and  deify  their  power, 
Who  from  the  terror  of  their  arms  so  late 
Doubted  their  empire ;  that  were  low  indeed, 
That  were  an  ignominy,  and  shame  beneath 
This  downfall.' 

Whereto  with  speedy  words  the  archfiend  replied 
'Seest  thou  yon  dreary  plain,  forlorn  and  wild, 
The  seat  of  desolation,  void  of  light, 
Save  what  the  glimmerings  of  these  livid  flames 
Cast  pale  and  dreadful?     Thither  let  us  tend, 
From  off  the  tossings  of  these  fiery  waves ; 
There  rest,  if  any  rest  can  harbor  there ; 
And,  reassembling  our  afflicted  powers, 
Consult  how  we  may  henceforth  most  offend 
Our  enemy  ;  our  own  loss  how  repair ; 
How  overcome  this  dire  calamity ; 
What  reinforcement  we  may  gain  from  hope; 
If  not,  what  resolution  from  despair.' " 


EFFECTS  OF  ALCOHOL  ON"  THE  STOMACH.  307 

The  appearance  of  the  stomach  after  death  aids 
us  in  understanding  the  injurious  effects  of  alco- 
hol. Dr.  Sewall,  Professor  of  Pathology,  after 
thirty  years  of  careful  observation  and  post-mor- 
tem examinations,  made  a  number  of  plates  which 
show  the  progressive  changes  that  take  place  in 
the  stomachs  of  those  who  use  alcohol.  Other  in- 
vestigators have  confirmed  the  accuracy  of  Dr. 
Sewall's  work.  The  first  illustration  (after  Dr. 
Kellogg)  shows  the  internal  surface  of  the  mucous 
membrane  of  the  stomach  in  health,  when  the  per- 
son has  been  entirely  temperate.  The  innumer- 
able blood-vessels  give  a  pinkish  color. 

The  second  illustration  shows  the  internal  sur- 
face of  the  stomach  of  the  temperate  drinker,  who 
takes  a  little  at  his  meals  and  a  toddy  on  going  to 
bed.  The  blood-vessels  are  dilated  and  so  dis- 
tended with  blood,  that  they  can  be  seen  individ- 
ually. A  person  with  such  a  stomach  has  a  sensa- 
tion as  if  this  delicate  coat  of  the  stomach  was  on 
fire,  and,  most  of  the  time,  asking  for  water.  The 
third  illustration  shows  the  progressive  destruc- 
tive changes  where  alcohol  is  continually  used. 
The  man  is  now  a  confirmed  drunkard.  The  mu- 
cous membrane  has  an  angry  look,  and  the  blood- 
vessels are  greatly  enlarged,  and  later  cancer  and 
other  forms  of  organic  disease  may  appear.  The 
last  illustration  shows  the  stomach  thoroughly  dis- 
eased, and  the  sufferer  beyond  all  hope  of  com- 
plete recovery.  He  is  afflicted  with  a  gnawing 
pain,  sinking  sensations,  and  a  disturbance  of  all 
the  functions  of  the  body.  The  House  Beautiful 
he  has  turned  into  a  house  of  anguish  and  suffer- 
ing, and  he  will  abandon  it  lashed  and  maddened 
by  a  conscience  that  condemns  him  while  suffer- 
ing the  horrors  of  alcoholic  self-destruction. 


CHAPTER     XIV. 

GOOD   COMPANY. 

THE  wise  man  chooses  his  friends  wisely  He  does 
not  invite  as  guests  to  his  house  those  who  ATQ  dead- 
ly enemies  to  his  welfare.  He  does  not  coi  .sort  with 
thieves  and  murderers,  nor  will  he  make  intimate 
friends  of  those  whose  only  recommendation  is  their 
power  to  amuse.  He  proves  his  wisdom  by  associat- 
ing with  those  who  are  helpful  to  him,  who  bring 
strength  by  their  presence,  and  encouragement  by 
their  truly  helpful  qualities.  His  friends  are  not 
chosen  because  of  their  fine  dress  or  elegant  manners, 
but  for  their  sterling  worth,  their  truthfulness,  and 
their  candor.  The  Man  Wonderful  who  truly  appre- 
ciates the  glory  of  his  beautiful  house,  and  desires  to 
keep  it  in  perfect  repair,  a  credit  to  himself,  and  an 
honor  to  its  Great  Creator,  will  keep  aloof  from  the 
whole  tribe  of  doubtful,  bad,  and  wicked  companions 
of  whom  we  have  told  you.  His  guests  will  be  woik- 
ers,  who  will  be  selected  for  their  special  duties  with 
a  wise  forethought.  1  If  company  were  never  re- 
ceived and  entertained  in  the  house  it  would  soon  fall 
into  a  ruinous  condition  and  become  uninhabitable. 
'  But  on  every  side  we  find  stores  of  iron,  potash, 
lime,  soda,  and  all  the  substances  needed  to  keep  us 
in  perfect  repair.  8  The  first  guest  who  is  invited  to 
(308) 


GOOD  COMPANY.  309 

enter  the  House  Beautiful  is  called  Milk.  She  is 
sweet,  fair-complexioned,  and  attractive,  and  is  wel- 
comed with  gladness.  She  deserves  this  welcome,  for 
she  brings  with  her  4  everything  that  is  needed  in  the 
house.  The  lime  and  the  soda,  the  fat  and  the  sugar, 
all  come  in  right  proportions  when  brought  by  Milk. 

The  various  guests  whose  help  is  needed  in  keeping 
the  house  in  repair  have  very  big  names.  There,  are 
the  5  Albuminoids,  an  important  company  of  workers, 
who,  in  looks,  resemble  the  white  of  egg.  They  form 
the  greater  part  of  the  whole  body.  6  They  are  found 
in  both  the  animal  and  vegetable  foods,  and  have  dif- 
ferent names  according  to  their  location.  7  In  the 
blood  they  are  called  fibrin,  and  are  the  substances 
which  are  hardened  by  the  touch  of  alcohol  and 
thus  are  rendered  incapable  of  passing  through  the 
membranes  and  doing  their  work.  In  wheat  these 
albuminoids  are  called  gluten,  and  in  milk  they  are 
called  caseine.  *  Milk  is  the  most  perfect  of  foods. 

As  a  certain  writer  says :  "  Nature  folds  us  in  her 
arms  and  feeds  us  milk."  8  Even  our  solid  food  is 
made  up  of  the  same  material  as  was  the  milk  which 
nourished  us  as  babes. 

10  The  next  guest  who  is  invited  into  the  house  is  a 
pale  individual,  we  might  almost  say  insipid,  but 
very  important.  His  name  is  H2O,  but  he  is  very 
willing  to  be  known  by  his  common  name  of  Water. 
Would  you  believe  that  your  "  body  is  about  three- 
fourths  water?  12  that  even  the  bones  are  one-eighth, 
and  the  brain  two-fifths  water  ?  13  This  proves  that 
Water  is  a  valuable  friend  and  should  receive  a  kindly 


3  ic  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

welcome.  14  We  need  to  take  about  three  pounds  of 
water  every  day.  But  do  not  imagine  that  we  have 
to  drink  so  much.  16  Everything  we  eat  is  largely 
made  up  of  water,  and  if  we  did  not  drink  at  all  we 
should  still  take  a  good  supply  of  fluid  into  the 
system. 

16  Even  beefsteak,  which  we  are  accustomed  to 
think  of  as  solid  food,  is  three-fourths  water,  while 
parsifips  and  turnips  are  nine-tenths  water.  1T  Fruits 
are  flavored  and  sweetened  water,  but  they  have 
other  work  to  do  besides  furnishing  a  pleasant  drink. 
18  They  contain  a  certain  proportion  of  muscle-form- 
ing material,  as  well  as  sugar,  when  they  are  ripe. 
When  unripe  they  contain  much  starch,  which  the  sun 
changes  into  sugar.  But  this  is  not  all.  "  Fruits 
have  certain  acids  which  unite  with  other  materials  in 
the  system,  and  produce  the  carbonates  and  phos- 
phates of  lime,  and  the  carbonates  of  soda  and  potash. 
10  These  we  know  are  needed  in  the  bones,  so  that  we 
«fnay  learn  from  this  that  fruits  are  good  company,  es- 
pecially for  children,  who  particularly  need  such  bone- 
making  substances,  and  who  may  have  the  calcareous 
material  in  their  systems,  but  it  can  not  be  used  be- 
cause it  needs  the  acids  of  the  fruits  to  set  it  free  ;  this 
being  done  they  unite  with  the  acids  and  form  the 
phosphates  and  carbonates  for  which  the  bones  are 
continually  calling.  al  It  needs  only  a  small  failure  in 
bone-forming  material  to  produce  the  disease  called 
rachitis,  or  rickets. 

*a  "  No  thought  without  phosphorus,"  say  the  Ger- 
mans.    And  so  the  Man  Wonderful  asks,  M  "  Where 


OBLIGING  NEIGHBORS.  3 1  j 

shall  I  find  this  necessary  friend  of  mine,  for  I  must 
think?"  *4  He  has  learned  that  lime  and  iron  and  pot- 
ash and  phosphorus  are  in  the  soil,  but  he  has  also 
learned  that  he  can  not  use  them  in  the  form  in  which 
they  exist  in  the  soil.  They  must  be  made  over,  for 
his  use.  Who  then  has  made  Phosphorus  over  so 
that  he  can  become  a  welcome  guest  to  the  House 
Beautiful  ?  Ah,  a5  man  has  some  very  obliging  neigh- 
bors. They  eat  the  minerals  from  the  soil,  and  he 
fi  in  turn  eats  them.  It  seems  like  base  ingratitude, 
doesn't  it  ?  Holland,  in  his  beautiful  poem  of  Bitter- 
Sweet,  says: 

"  Life  evermore  is  fed  by  death, 

In  earth,  or  sea,  or  sky, 
And  that  a  rose  may  breathe  its  breath, 

Something  must  die. 
The  milk-white  heifer's  life  must  pass 

To  feed  thy  own, 
As  fled  the  sweet  life  from  the  grass 

She  fed  upon." 

87  The  vegetable  and  animal  world  are  the  obliging 
neighbors  who  prepare  our  food  for  us.  a8  The  plants 
take  from  the  soil  the  minerals  and  assimilate  them, 
that  is,  make  them  over  into  their  own  substance, 
changing  the  inorganic  materials  into  organic  forms. 

29  Inorganic  materials  are  those  which  have  no  or- 
gans, and  grow  by  adding  like  materials  to  the  outside. 
*°  Organic  substances  are  those  which  have  organs,  and 
grow  by  taking  food  into  themselves,  and  assimilating 
it.  31  Plants  and  animals  are  organic,  33  but  they  dif- 
fer in  this,  that  plants  can  live  upon  inorganic  mate- 
rials. 


312  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

58  Phosphorus  is  an  inorganic  substance,  and  is  found 
in  an  organized  form  in  both  animals  and  vegetables, 
but  especially  in  the  germs  of  grains.  Therefore 
14  wheat,  rye,  barley,  and  oats  are  good  food  for  think- 
ers. Man  is  the  animal  who  thinks  and  reasons,  say 
some  who  wish  to  mark  the  distinction  between  man 
and  his  quadruped  friends.  "  Man  is  the  animal  who 
laughs,"  say  others.  There  is  one  thing  which  truly 
distinguishes  man  from  all  other  animals.  Man  is  the 
animal  who  cooks  his  food.  Experience  has  taught 
us  that  heat  ruptures  the  starch  cells  of  food,  and 
thus  enables  us  to  bring  the  starch  into  quicker  con- 
tact with  the  fluids  which  act  upon  it.  85  All  grains 
need  long  cooking  in  order  thus  to  rupture  the  starch 
cells. 

36  Rice,  tapioca,  corn-starch,  and  such  foods  are  not 
suitable  as  diet  for  babies,  because  infants  have  no 
saliva.  37  Their  salivary  glands  are  not  developed 
until  they  have  teeth.  38  And  as  these  foods  are 
largely  starch  they  need  the  action  of  the  saliva  for 
their  digestion.  39  Starch  is  known  under  the  name 
of  amylaceous  food. 

40  Next  come  the  saccharine  foods,  which  are  guests 
most  heartily  welcomed  by  the  little  people  who  are 
said  to  have  a  "  sweet  tooth."  41  We  find  sugar  in 
nearly  all  foods,  and  we  find  it  as  sugar  in  the  sugar- 
bowl.  4a  It  is  made  from  the  sugar-cane,  from  beets, 
and  as  some  of  us  know  by  delightful  experience,  it 
can  be  made  from  the  sap  of  maple  trees.  It  is  found 
in  corn,  wheat,  rye,  milk,  figs,  peaches,  in  fact  in  all 
grains  and  fruits,  so  that  if  we  never  went  to  the 


HAVE  GOOD  FOOD. 

sugar-bowl  we  should  still  be  eating  sugar  every 
day. 

43  The  oleaginous  or  oily  foods  come  next.  Some 
young  folks  are  very  fastidious,  and  do  not  like  these 
greasy  fellows,  and  say, 4'  I  hope  they  are  not  neces- 
sary company."  Fortunately  for  those  who  do  not 
like  fat  meats  we  can  obtain  fat  elsewhere.  44  Nuts 
are  about  half  oil,  and  butter  is  largely  oil.  Fat  ex- 
ists in  all  vegetables  and  grains,  so  you  are  eating  fat 
when  not  aware  of  it. 

45  Starch  and  fat  are  consumed  in  the  production  of 
heat  and  energy.  48  They  are  our  engineers,  47  while 
the  other  substances  may  be  called  our  busy  builders. 
48  The  food  we  eat  should  be  suited  to  our  age,  health, 
habits  of  life,  and  the  season  of  the  year. 

49  The  food  of  the  child  should  consist  of  less  ani- 
mal food  than  that  of  the  adult.  The  invalid  should 
consult  the  state  of  his  digestive  organs.  *°  The  sed- 
entary man  should  not  eat  as  much,  nor  the  same  kind 
of  food,  as  the  laboring  man,  and  in  winter  we  may 
eat  more  fatty  foods  than  in  summer. 

61  The  youth  who  comes  from  the  active,  outdoor 
life  of  the  farm  to  the  school  should  change  his  diet 
with  his  habits,  or  he  will  lay  the  foundation  of  a 
future  dyspepsia.  "  The  question  of  what  we  shall 
eat  is  one  that  deserves  our  earnest  study  and  thought. 
The  bountiful  Giver  of  all  good  has  in  this  our  native 
land,  placed  at  our  hand  the  greatest  variety  of  whole- 
some foods  from  which  to  choose.  5>  He  who  makes 
the  wisest  choice  will  reap  a  reward  in  health,  and  in 
ability  to  enjoy. 


THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

The  food  we  eat  must  with  the  sunshine  glow. 

It  must  be  filled  with  pure  life-giving  light ; 

It  must  have  drunk  the  very  air  of  heaven ; 

Through  it,  the  universe  must  work  in  us, 

That  each  and  all  of  us  may  truly  live. 

So  nature  with  an  ever  liberal  hand 

Pours  forth  the  treasures  of  both  land  and  sea,  . 

To  give  to  man  a  wide  and  vig'rous  life, 

Participant  of  all  variety. 

Freely  for  him  the  palm,  the  date,  the  pine, 

Wheat,  rye,  oat,  maize  spread  harvests  to  the  at 

Apple,  plum,  peach  invite  his  ready  hand. 

Beneath  his  feet  lie  stored  the  sugary  beet, 

The  starch  of  the  potato,  while  all  space 

Is  rich  with  juicy,  all-inviting  herbs. 

The  solid  flesh  of  bird,  and  fish,  and  beast, 

As  victims  for  the  sacrifice  prepared, 

Wait  ready  to  make  firm  the  arm  of  toil, 

Or,  in  the  brain-cells  light  the  torch  of  thought. 

Eat  and  be  merry.     Let  earth's  varied  life 

And  power  be  marshalled  in  its  ruler's  breast. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE    ROYAL    GUEST. 

AMID  my  morning  dreams  I  heard  a  soft 
And  gentle  tapping  on  my  window-pane, 
And,  raising  on  my  elbow,  strove  to  break 
The  filmy  band  that  Sleep  had  woven  soft 
Across  my  eyelids,  while  I,  through  its  veil, 
Beheld  a  dim  and  shadowy  form,  with  robes 
Wind-blown  and  fluttering  in  the  misty  air, 
And  heard  against  the  pane  the  ceaseless  beat 
Of  slender  fingers,  urgent  in  demand 
For  entrance  to  my  sheltered  domicile. 

;l  Who  art  thou,  then,  impatient  stranger,  who 
All  uninvited  seek'st  to  enter  here  ?  " 
A  voice,  like  chimes  of  crystal  bells,  replied : 

*  I  am  a  king,  and  thy  most  helpful  friend." 
I,  doubting,  answered  querulously  back : 

"  If  thou'rt  a  king,  why  com'st  thou  not  in  guise 
Of  royalty  ?    Why  at  my  window-pane 
Demand  admission  ?    If  thou  art  a  king, 
Over  what  mighty  realm  dost  thou  hold  sway  ?" 
Again  the  crystal  tones  made  sweet  reply : 

"  Three-fourths  of  earth  to  my  dominion  yield  ; 
Without  me  were  not  ocean,  lake,  nor  stream, 
Nor  thund'rous  surges  of  the  mighty  deep, 
Nor  gurgling  music  of  the  tireless  rill. 
Without  mo  earth  were  one  vast,  arid  waste, 
With  no  oasis  cheering  longing  eyes  ; 
No  tender  leaf  would  bud,  i  o  flower  would  bloom. 


31 6  THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

Here  were  I  not,  King  Sol  would  scorch  the  plain 

And  melt  the  very  earth  with  fervent  heat. 

But  now  my  power  doth  stretch  a  canopy, 

A  thin  and  mottled,  gauzelike  awning,  placed 

Thee,  and  his  far  too-ardent  gaze  between. 

Without  me  ne'er  would  heaven's  cloudy  hosts 

March  valiantly  across  the  azure  field 

To  sound  of  thunder's  martial  music,  nor 

The  blessed  fusillade  of  rain-drops  fall, 

To  raise,  not  blight  the  drooping  heads  of  flowers. 

Without  me  would  the  mountain's  hoary  head, 

Uncapped  with  brHliant  whiteness,  rise  aloft, 

Bald,  dreary,  desolate  and  all  uncrowned. 

Without  me  would  no  glacier  rivers  send, 

From  their  deep  hearts,  the  mountain  streamlet  down 

To  cheer  the  thirsty  vales  waiting  below. 

I  am  the  teeming  heart's  blood  of  the  world." 

"  O,  mighty  king,"  I  hastened  to  respond, 

"  If  thou  so  vast,  so  wondrous,  so  divine 
A  kingdom  hast,  why  humblest  thou  thyself 
To  beg  of  me  admission  here  ?     What  gift 
Have  I  to  offer  monarch  so  august  ?  " 

"  My  simple  child,  'tis  1  who  come  to  give. 
I  bring  thee  health,  and  wealth,  and  food,  and  life. 
Dost  thou  not  know  that  three  parts  of  thy  House 
So  Beautiful  belong  to  me  ?     That  I 
Myself  do  humble,  truly  thee  to  serve  ? 
Thy  Housekeeper  I  ever  walk  beside, 
Her  parcels  carry,  open  wide  the  doors 
Which  she  would  pass  through,  and  which,  but  for  me 
Would  never  open  ;  sweep  from  every  nook 
The  tiny  particles  of  waste  that  check 
Her  progress,  and  disdaining  not  the  toil 
Of  humblest  menial,  keep  thy  dwelling  clean. 
Closed  were  thine  eyes  to  all  dear  sights  did  I 


TO  SA  VE  THE   WORLD. 


317 


Not  dwell  within  their  orbs.     Dead,  dead  were  Taste, 

And  his  Twin-Brother,  were  I  to  depart. 

'Tis  I  who  quench  the  thirst  of  arduous  toil, 

Who  cool  the  burning  heat  of  fever's  touch. 

With  every  friend  who  visits  thee  I  come, 

To  aid  his  friendship ;  and  with  every  foe, 

To  half  disarm  him  of  his  deadly  shafts 

With  which  he  aims  to  strike  thy  very  heart. 

King  Alcohol,  without  me,  would  have  more 

And  deadlier  power  against  thee,  but  with  me 

Allied,  he  loses  strength,  and  harms  thee  less. 

And  yet  he  loves  me  well,  and  calls  for  me 

Where'er  he  goes,  and  by  his  love  doth  drag 

Me  forth  against  my  will,  to  leave  my  work, 

And  join  his  baleful  train  of  direst  ills. 

0  child  of  earth,  be  wise,  be  wise  in  time, 
And  shut  thy  door  against  King  Alcohol, 
For  he  doth  much  degrade  his  royal  name. 
But  I,  /  worthy  am  to  be  a  king. 

Look  thou  abroad  upon  the  fields,  and  see 
Each  emerald  leaf  doth  well  proclaim  me  good 

1  deck  the  world  with  verdure,  gem  with  dew 
The  silken  robes  of  flowers.     I  adorn 

Thy  wintry  window  with  a  filigree 

Of  crystal.     With  the  brilliant  rainbow-scarf 

Of  God's  own  promise  do  I  gird  the  heavens. 

My  robes  unsullied  typify  the  truth  ; 

My  crystals,  emblems  are  of  purity  ; 

My  dewdrop-gems,  the  type  of  innocence. 

Born  of  the  earth,  I  yet  ascend  to  heaven, 

And  from  that  glorious  height  oft  I  descend, 

To  bless,  and  purify,  and  save  the  world." 

21 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

THE   MAN   WONDERFUL. 

WHEN  we  compare  the  inhabitant  of  the  House 
Beautiful  in  his  physical  nature  with  other  animals, 
we  find  that  he  far  surpasses  them.  Born  the  most 
helpless  of  living  creatures,  through  his  manual  skill 
he  emulates  all  other  animals  in  their  most  pre-em- 
inent qualities.  In  his  wild  nature  he  subsists  upon 
the  fruits  and  seeds  of  plants,  and  the  flesh  of  other 
animals.  He  is  the  most  cunning  of  still  hunters, 
far  surpassing  even  the  cat  family,  for  with  his  swift 
arrow,  or  the  ball  from  his  unerring  rifle,  he  reaches 
his  game  before  they  are  aware  of  danger.  As  a  trap- 
per, he  is  more  skilful  than  the  spider,  and  he  is  not 
content  with  one  kind  of  trap  or  one  species  of  prey. 

The  speed  of  the  greyhound  and  the  scent  of  the 
foxhound,  both  together,  do  not  make  them  so  cer- 
tain of  following  and  overtaking  the  game,  as  his 
untiring  pursuit  and  his  keen  observation  of  every 
broken  twig,  every  overturned  leaf,  every  crushed 
blade  of  grass  left  by  the  flying  deer.  Our  numerous 
domestic  animals  prove  that  he  tames  the  wild  crea- 
tures of  the  woods  and  makes  them  serve  him. 

In  order  to  have  a  secure  means  of  subsistence,  he 
has  learned  to  cultivate  the  soil,  and  in  every  depart- 
ment of  this  industry  he  has  demonstrated  his  supe- 
riority. Nature  gave  him  only -hands  as  tools,  and 
(318) 


HE  DISCOVERS  THE  FORCES  OF  NATURE. 


319 


these  none  too  strong ;  but  with  these  he  has  devised 
and  manufactured  all  kinds  of  useful  implements  and 
macliineiy  for  farming.  He  no  longer  digs  in  the 
ground  unaided,  but  employs  other  animals  to  assist 
him,  while  the  hoe,  the  axe,  the  plow,  the  harrow,  the 
corn-planter,  the  wheat-drill,  the  sulky-plow,  gang- 
plow,  and  the  mower,  reaper,  and  binder,  and  the 
thresher,  all  testify  to  his  genius.  Unable  to  breathe 
in  the  water,  he  yet  constructs  armor  and  machinery, 
by  means  of  which  he  dives  to  the  depths  of  ocean, 
and  walks  among  the  finny  tribes  apparently  as  much 
at  home  as  they. 

Discovering  the  force  of  gunpowder,  he  devises 
means  of  using  it  to  blast  rocks  or  to  destroy  his 
enemies,  and  with  the  forces  of  nature  obedient  to 
his  will  digs  in  submerged  rocks  vast  chambers  which 
he  fills  with  explosives  and  displaces  the  very  foun- 
dations of  old  ocean. 

He  is  not  content  merely  to  discover  steam  and 
electricity  and  the  other  great  forces  of  nature,  but 
he  harnesses  them  to  his  plows  and  wagons,  and  con- 
tinues to  invent  machinery  by  means  of  which  they 
may  be  still  more  useful  to  him. 

By  steam  he  moves  the  engines  which  his  genius 
has  invented,  and  thus  transports  himself  across  con- 
tinents and  seas.  Electricity  becomes  his  swift-flying 
messenger,  bearing  his  commands  with  lightning  speed 
over  mountains  or  under  oceans,  and  chaining  it  he 
compels  it  to  be  his  midnight  sun.  He  stores  up 
electricity  and  transports  it  as  his  prisoner  from  place 
to  place  to  do  his  bidding.  He  seals  up  the  rays  of 


THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 

the  sun  and  carries  them  into  dark  places,  there  to 
work  as  his  assistant  in  artistic  labors. 

He  has  invented  the  microscope,  by  means  of  which 
he  beholds  in  a  drop  of  water  an  ocean  swarming 
with  life. 

Studying  plants,  he  has  not  only  named  and  clas- 
sified them,  but  can  examine  their  minute  construc- 
tion, their  tissues  and  cells,  and,  not  content  with  this, 
has  invented  ways  of  dissolving  and  analyzing  them, 
as  to  the  ultimate  substances  of  which  they  are  com- 
posed. He  has  compelled  Nature  to  divulge  to  him 
her  laws  concerning  the  elementary  substances  of  the 
earth.  Nor  has  this  satisfied  his  ambition,  for  with 
his  telescope  he  has  dared  to  peep  into  the  private 
chambers  of  far-off  heavenly  bodies,  and  with  his 
spectroscope  has  required  them  to  tell  of  what  ele- 
mentary substances  they  are  composed. 

Earth,  air,  fire,  and  water  become  his  obedient  vas- 
sals ;  or,  if  they  rebel,  their  very  stubbornness  arouses 
his  defiant  will,  and  he  never  rests  until  they  are  sub- 
dued, and  yield  to  his  sway.  Undismayed  by  horror 
of  cold,  hunger,  or  even  death,  he  has  visited  the 
home  of  the  North  Wind,  and  recorded  the  laws  of 
its  nature,  and  is  now  able  to  tell  "  whence  the  wind 
cometh  and  whither  it  goeth,"  and  gives  forewarnings 
of  the  uprising,  course,  and  speed  of  storms. 

He  has  a  method  of  communicating  with  his  kind 
superior  to  that  possessed  by  any  other  animal.  He 
has  invented  a  language  which  he  teaches  to  his 
children,  and  has  even  taught  a  part  of  it  to  other 
animals.  Not  satisfied  with  a  spoken  language  he 


LOOKS  UPON  HIMSELF  AND  HIS  GOD.         321 

has  invented  the  art  of  writing,  so  that  his  valua 
ble  thoughts  might  not  perish  with  his  removal  from 
his  earthly  abode,  but  be  preserved  for  the  benefit  oi 
succeeding  generations.  But  even  this  has  not  satis- 
fied  him,  and  he  has  invented  the  printing  of  books. 

Turning  hfis  eyes  upon  himself,  he  studies  his  own 
frame  and  the  powers  which  give  him  motion ;  looks 
into  the  construction  of  every  tissue,  and  notes  the 
relation  of  it  to  life  and  the  changes  through  which 
it  passes  to  decay;  learns  that  the  cells  of  the  brain 
have  a  relation  to  the  nerves,  and  distinguishes  nerves 
from  each  other  by  the  offices  which  they  perform, 
and  does  not  stop  in  his  audacious  career  until  he  has 
located  himself  in  his  own  brain. 

His  presumption  leads  him,  successfully,  still  fur- 
ther, and  he  looks  upon  himself  within  his  House 
Beautiful  and  sees  his  own  functions.  By  comparison 
he  estimates  the  relation  of  memory  and  thought, 
and  recognizes  the  importance  of  will-power  and  the 
delights  of  the  imagination. 

Not  content  with  naming  the  earth  and  all  it  con- 
tains, nor  yet  with  weighing  the  planets  and  mapping 
out  their  courses  through  the  heavens,  nor  yet  with 
handling  in  his  thought  the  mysteries  of  his  own.  na- 
ture, he  assumes  to  discuss  the  powers  and  attributes 
of  the  Great  Final  Cause,  and  to  lift  the  veil  from  the 
unknowable.  Marvellous  and  incomprehensible  are 
the  powers  of  this  inhabitant  of  the  House  Beautiful, 

THE  MAN  WONDERFUL. 


SUGGESTIONS  TO   TEACHERS   AND   SCHOLARS. 

STUDENTS  who  desire  to  fully  understand  the  con- 
struction  of  the  House  Beautiful,  and  teachers  who 
wish  to  teach  successfully,  would  do  well  to  give  some 
attention  to  dissecting.  The  eye  or  heart  of  a  sheep 
or  calf  will  give  a  good  idea  of  those  organs. 

From  a  cat  the  position  of  the  internal  organs  in 
situ  can  be  learned.  The  first  lessons  can  be  upon 
the  Kitchen,  Butler's  Pantry,  and  Dining-room,  and 
these  being  removed,  the  other  organs  can  be  studied. 
In  dissecting  the  eye  it  can  be  opened  with  sharp- 
pointed  scissors  by  cutting  all  the  way  around  in  the 
sclerotic,  a  little  ways  from  the  border  of  the  cornea ; 
the  eye  will  thus  be  opened  with  the  lens  in  place. 
Do  this  while  holding  the  eye  in  a  basin  of  water. 
Put  a  large  pin  through  the  lens  and  take  it  out.  If 
fresh,  it  will  be  transparent ;  if  not,  it  will  look  like 
an  opal,  and  when  a  pencil  of  light  falls  on  it,  will  call 
forth  exclamations  of  wonder  at  its  beauty.  With 
equal  care  the  other  parts  of  the  eye  can  be  separated, 
and  will  be  sure  to  be  admired.  With  children,  see 
ing  is  knowing,  and  it  is  seeing  that  awakens  interest 
and  compels  attention. 

A  chicken  can  be  used  to  demonstrate  how  birds 
grind  their  food  without  teeth,  their  gizzard  being 
the  mill  which  grinds  and  their  crop  a  storehouse  in 
which  to  keep  their  provision  before  grinding. 

Feelings  of  repugnance  at  such  work  are  soon  for- 
gotten in  the  unfolding  of  unknown  and  unsuspected 
beauties,  and  in  admiration  of  the  Divine  wisdoir 
which  constructed  each  and  every  part  and  adapted 
them  with  infinite  skill  for  their  harmonious  working 
(322) 


AIDS  TO  TEACHERS  AND  SCHOLARS 


PART  I. 
QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  I. — PAGE  9. 

i.  In  what  kind  of  houses  did  men  first  live  ?  2.  What  are 
the  "  modern  improvements"  ?  3.  Who  built  the  first  House 
Beautiful  ?  4.  Has  the  Architect  improved  upon  the  original 
plan  ?  5.  Who  owned  the  first  House  Beautiful  ?  6.  What  is 
this  house  ?  7.  Is  it  you  ?  8.  Of  what  are  our  dwellings  made  ? 
9.  What  is  chemistry  ?  10.  What  is  an  elementary  substance  ? 
ii.  Of  how  many  elements  is  the  earth  composed?  12.  What 
elements  are  used  in  the  House  Beautiful  ?  Name  them.  13. 
Where  do  we  obtain  them  ?  14.  What  is  being  sick  ?  15.  Of 
what  is  every  organ  made  ?  16.  What  is  protoplasm  ?  17. 
What  becomes  of  these  cells  ?  18.  What  is  growth  ?  19.  What 
should  we  study?  20.  Why?  21.  What  is  the  effect  of  exer- 
cise ?  22.  Why  do  we  get  hungry  ? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  II.— PAGE  16. 

I.  What  is  the  first  thing  in  building  a  house?  2.  What  is 
.he  foundation  of  the  House  Beautiful  ?  3.  When  put  together 
<vhat  called  ?  4.  What  different  shapes  have  bones  ?  5.  Of  what 
two  materials  are  they  made  ?  6.  How  can  you  obtain  the  earthy 
material?  7.  How  can  you  obtain  the  animal  matter?  8.  Is 
there  more  animal  or  earthy  matter  in  the  bones  of  children  ?  9. 
What  is  it  to  ossify?  10.  When  are  the  bones  strong?  11. 
What  forms  the  earthy  matter  in  bones?  12.  Where  do  we  ob- 
tain it  ?  13.  Who  repairs  the  House  Beautiful  ?  14.  Who  selects 
food  for  the  different  tissues?  15.  What  is  the  periosteum  ?  16. 

(323) 


324 


AIDS  TO  TEACHERS  AND  SCHOLARS. 


What  does  it  do?  17.  For  what  are  the  holes  in  bones?  i&, 
What  is  the  difference  between  a  dead  and  a  living  bone?  19 
What  do  we  call  the  animal  matter  of  bones  ?  20.  How  should 
a  baby  be  lifted?  Why?  21.  Is  there  more  animal  or  earthy 
matter  in  the  bones  of  old  people  ?  22.  Why  is  it  dangerous  for 
old  people  to  fall?  23.  What  is  "  rickets  "?  24.  What  is  the 
best  bone-building  food  ?  25.  What  does  "  bolting  "  do  ? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  III. — PAGE  21. 

i.  What  is  the  framework  of  our  House  Beautiful?  2.  How 
do  the  walls  of  our  house  differ  from  bricks  ?  3.  Why  do  they 
not  wear  out?  4.  Do  we  ever  know  anything  about  it?  5. 
What  are  these  walls  called  ?  How  many  muscles  are  there  ?  6. 
How  is  the  framework  held  together  ?  7.  How  do  these  braces 
hold  it  ?  8.  What  are  joints  ?  9.  How  many  kinds  are  men- 
tioned ?  10.  What  covers  the  end  of  a  bone  at  a  joint  ?  Why  ? 
ii.  How  is  the  knee  joint  enclosed?  How  held?  12.  What 
makes  the  joints  move?  13.  Of  what  is  the  largest  part  of  our 
body  made?  14.  How  are  muscles  made?  15.  How  does  a 
muscle  resemble  thread  ?  16.  What  wraps  each  muscular  fibre  ? 
17.  What  is  this  blanket  called  ?  18.  What  is  this  sheath  called  ? 
19.  How  are  the  fibres  placed  together  ?  20.  Of  what  are  fibres 
made?  21.  What  takes  place  in  them  ?  22.  What  might  these 
fibrillse  be  called  ?  23.  What  is  the  sheath  that  encloses  a  mus- 
cle called?  24.  What  does  it  mean  ?  25.  Where  is  fat  always 
found  ?  With  what  ?  26.  With  what  are  muscles  supplied  ?  27. 
Ey  what  are  muscles  attached  to  the  bone  ?  28.  What  gives  the 
body  its  shape  ?  29.  What  effect  has  use  upon  muscles  ?  30. 
How  are  they  arranged  on  the  trunk  of  the  body?  31.  Why  is 
tlr.s  arrangement  good  ?  32.  How  can  you  make  muscles  strong- 
er and  thicker  ?  33.  What  is  the  result  of  overwork  ?  34.  When 
are  the  walls  repaired  ?  35.  Why  is  it  wise  to  build  up  strong  walls  ? 
36.  What  would  we  think  of  a  house  that  needed  external  sup- 
ports ?  37.  Does  our  house  need  external  supports?  38 
Whom  should  we  trust  ? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  IV.  325 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  IV.— PAGE  28. 

i.  What  is  a  minister?  What  is  a  servant  ?  2.  What  depends 
upon  the  servants  of  the  House  Beautiful  ?  3.  Under  \\hat  two 
heads  are  they  comprised?  Name  them.  4.  Where  do  we  find 
the  voluntary  muscles,  and  what  is  their  use  ?  5.  How  do  we  re- 
semble a  snail  ?  6.  How  are  joints  formed  ?  7.  What  is  upon 
the  end  of  each  bone  ?  And  what  is  it  like  ?  8.  How  oiled  ?  9. 
What  holds  the  bones  in  place  ?  10.  What  is  mulishness  in  a 
boy  called  ?  11.  What  is  obstinacy  in  a  grown  person  called  ? 
12.  What  is  perseverance  in  a  ligament  called  ?  13.  Of  what  use 
is  it  ?  14.  If  you  feel  up  and  down  your  back  what  will  you  find  ? 
15.  Of  what  is  the  spinal  column  made  ?  16.  How  are  they  fas- 
tened together  ?  17.  What  is  between  the  rings  of  the  backbone  ? 
1 8.  What  happens  when  you  lean  forward  ?  19.  What  do  the 
ligaments  do  when  you  straighten  up  ?  20.  What  is  the  business 
of  the  ligaments?  21.  What  do  they  do  when  a  bone  is  dis- 
located? 22.  Do  the  bones  help?  23.  Do  all  the  muscles  help  ? 
24.  What  does  this  teach  us  ?  25.  What  is  tonicity  ?  26.  What 
is  sensibility  of  a  muscle  ?  27.  What  is  contractility  of  a  mus- 
cle ?  28.  How  are  the  muscles  that  move  the  arm  fastened  ?  29. 
What  bends  the  elbow?  What  straightens  it?  30.  Why  must 
we  have  two  sets  of  servants  or  muscles?  31.  What  are  the 
flexors  ?  The  extensors  ?  32.  Do  they  ever  interfere  with  each 
other  ?  33.  Does  a  muscle  change  in  size  in  contracting  ?  34, 
Where  does  the  weight  of  the  body  rest  when  standing  erect  ? 
35.  What  muscles  keep  us  erect  ?  36.  How  do  we  walk  ?  37. 
What  protects  us  from  jars  ?  38.  Do  the  muscles  assist  us  in 
sitting  ?  39.  When  do  we  rest  best  ?  40.  Of  what  servants  have 
we  been  speaking?  41.  Of  what  do  the  involuntary  muscles 
take  charge  ?  42.  Why  is  standing  more  tiresome  than  walking  ? 
— ANS.  Because  in  standing  only  one  set  of  muscles  is  employed, 
while  in  walking  there  is  a  constant  change  from  one  set  to  ano- 
ther. 


326  AIDS  TO  TEACHERS  AND  SCHOLARS. 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  V.— PAGE  38. 

I.  What  is  peculiar  about  our  House  Beautiful  ?  2.  What  kind 
of  a  covering  should  such  a  house  have  ?  3.  What  is  the  sid- 
ing? 4.  How  fastened? — ANS.  To  elastic  tissue.  5.  What  is 
the  sheathing  of  the  house  ?  6.  Of  what  is  it  made  ?  7.  What 
causes  "  goose  flesh  "  ?  8.  What  is  the  second  layer  called  ? 
Describe  it.  9.  Where  can  you  see  these  papillae  ?  10.  What 
;.s  above  the  true  skin  ?  n.  What  is  in  the  lower  layer?  12. 
What  is  the  color  of  the  true  skin  of  a  negro?  13.  What  is 
the  outer  layer  of  the  epidermis  called  ?  14.  Of  what  is  it  made  ? 
15.  How  many  of  these  cells  to  the  square  inch? — ANS.  A  bil- 
lion. 16.  Of  what  use  is  the  epidermis  ?  17.  What  makes  cal- 
lous places  on  the  skin  ?  18.  What  is  the  function  of  an  organ  ? 
— ANS.  It  is  the  office  which  it  performs.  The  function  of  the 
stomach  is  digestion;  of  the  liver,  secretion  of  bile.  19.  What 
are  two  functions  of  the  skin  ?  20.  What  does  the  owner  do.  if 
the  house  gets  too  hot?  21.  How  is  the  cooling  process  accom- 
plished ?  22.  Describe  the  sweat  glands.  23.  How  long  a  tube 
would  these  coils  make?  24.  How  many  to  a  square  inch  on  the 
cheeks  ?  Forehead  ?  Palms  ?  25.  What  is  passing  out  through 
them  ?  26.  What  is  it  called  ?  27.  How  much  is  thrown  out  in 
24  hours  ?  28.  Under  severe  exercise  how  much  ?  29.  Why  can 
men  stay  in  a  hot  oven  without  harm  ?  30.  What  is  the  normal 
(natural)  temperature  of  the  body  ?  31.  What  is  the  effect  of  the 
solidpartof  the  perspiration  remain  ing  on  the  skin?  32.  Whatis 
the  effect  of  stopping  all  the  pores  of  the  skin?  33.  What  is  a  third 
function  of  the  skin  ? — ANS.  It  absorbs  ;  medicines  are  sometimes 
Administered  through  the  skin  by  absorption.  34.  What  are  the 
nails  ?  35.  What  about  the  layers  ?  36.  What  do  they  protect  ? 
37.  What  is  a  thatch  ?  38.  What  can  you  tell  about  the  roof  of 
our  House  Beautiful  ?  39.  How  should  we  care  for  it  ?  40. 
What  is  at  the  root  of  each  hair?  41.  Who  makes  the  best 
nair-oil  ?  42.  Where  else  are  these  hairs?  43.  What  is  the 
harr?  44.  Of  what  does  it  consist  ?  45.  Where  do  the  roots  o/ 


QUESTION'S  ON  CHAPTER   VI.  327 

the  hair  originate  ?  46.  What  and  where  is  the  mother  of  the 
hair  ?  47.  Where  is  the  coloring  matter  of  the  hair  ?  48.  What 
is  the  form  of  the  root  of  the  hair  ?  What  empties  there  *  49. 
What  are  the  oil-bottles  called  ?  And  where  found  ?  50.  \Vhat 
is  their  use  ?  51.  How  many  hairs  on  the  head? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  VI.— PAGE  45. 

I.  What  is  an  observatory?  2.  Who  resides  in  the  observa- 
tory of  our  house  ?  3.  How  many  bones  in  the  head  ?  4.  What 
bone  is  movable  ?  5.  Where  is  it  joined  to  the  other  bones  of  the 
head  ?  6.  How  are  the  bones  of  the  skull  divided  ?  7.  How 
many  form  the  cranium  ?  8.  Name  the  one  at  the  back  of  the 
head.  9.  Name  the  two  at  the  sides.  10.  What  one  makes  the 
arches  over  the  two  windows ?  u.  What  is  on  the  outside  of 
the  skull  ?  12.  Where  are  the  windows  ?  How  many  are  there  ? 
13.  Upon  what  does  the  observatory  rest?  14.  What  holds  up 
the  observatory  ?  15.  What  is  the  name  of  this  bone  ?  16.  How 
does  it  differ  from  other  vertebrae  ?  17.  How  is  the  opening  in  it 
divided?  18.  What  passes  behind  this  band?  19.  What  passes 
up  before  it  ?  20.  What  does  this  form  ?  21.  What  is  this  second 
vertebra  called  ?  22.  What  rests  upon  the  two  depressions  of  the 
atlas  ?  When  ?  23.  What  forms  the  neck  ?  24.  What  is  their 
use?  25.  What  different  motions  has  the  head?  26.  Why  is 
there  no  need  of  a  skylight?  27.  How  much  will  the  cavity  of 
the  skull  hold  ?  28.  What  does  it  contain  ?  29.  What  lines  the 
bony  cavity  of  the  skull  ?  30.  What  does  dura  mater  mean  ? 
31.  What  membrane  is  inside  of  this  ?  32.  What  is  inside  of  the 
arachnoid  ?  What  does  it  contain  ?  33.  What  does  a  French 
writer  call  the  brain  ?  34.  Describe  the  brain.  35.  What  are  the 
depressions  in  the  external  surface  of  the  brain  called? — ANS. 
Sulci.  36.  What  do  the  number  and  depth  of  these  sulci  de- 
note ?  37.  What  two  colors  in  the  substance  of  the  brain  ?  38 
Which  is  on  the  inside  ?  39.  Of  what  is  the  gray  matter  com- 
posed? 40.  What  does  it  generate?  41.  Of  what  is  the  whiU 


328  AIDS  TO   TEACHERS  AND  SCHOLARS 

matter  composed  ?  What  is  its  office  ?  42.  Is  the  brain  hard  or 
soft  ?  43.  What  is  the  average  weight  of  a  brain  ?  44.  How  is 
the  brain  divided  ?  45.  Where  is  the  great  brain  ?  46.  Where 
is  the  small  brain  ?  47.  What  connects  the  two  ?  48.  What 
holds  the  brain-cells  together  ?  49.  What  is  a  cluster  of  them 
called  ?  50.  What  forms  a  battery  ?  51.  What  does  it  produce  ? 
52.  Of  what  use  is  this  battery  ? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  VII. — PAGE  53. 
i.  How  many  front-doors  has  our  House  Beautiful  ?  2.  What 
color  are  they?  3.  What  can  they  do?  4.  What  is  mucous 
membrane?  5.  Where  is  it  found?  6.  How  many  teeth  have 
we  ?  7.  What  are  the  four  in  the  centre  called  ?  8.  What  are 
those  next  to  the  incisors?  9.  Which  are  the  bi-cuspids  ?  Why 
so  called  ?  TO.  Which  are  the  molars  ?  How  many  ?  1 1.  What 
do  these  different  teeth  do?  12.  Why  do  babies  have  no  teeth? 
13.  What  assistants  are  there  in  the  hall  ?  Where  located  ?  14. 
Where  are  the  teeth  before  they  appear  to  view  ?  1 5.  How  many 
first  teeth  are  there?  16.  When  can  ba.bies  begin  to  eat  starchy 
foods?  17.  Why  not  before  ?  18.  How  must  starch  be  changed 
to  be  digested  ?  19.  Who  does  this  work  ?  20.  Where  are  the 
second  teeth  while  the  first  are  in  the  mouth?  21.  Which  sec- 
ond teeth  appear  first  ?  At  what  age  ?  22.  Which  next  ?  At 
what  age  ?  23.  When  do  the  second  incisors  appear  ?  24.  The 
bi-cuspids  ?  The  canines  ?  The  second  molars  ?  The  wisdom  ? 
25.  Will  we  have  a  third  set  of  teeth  ?  26.  Are  the  teeth  bone  ? 
What  are  they  ?  27.  How  are  they  set  in  the  gum  ?  28.  What 
is  the  enamel  ?  29.  What  is  inside  of  this  ?  30.  What  is  in 
the  cavity  of  the  tooth  ?  31.  Which  is  the  crown  of  the  tooth  ? 
Which  the  fang?  The  neck?  32.  How  should  we  care  for  the 
teeth? 

QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  VIII. — PAGE  59. 
i.  What  is  the  uvula?    What  does  it  do?    o.  What  is  the 
pharynx  ? — ANS.  The  back  part  of  the  throat.     2.  What  are  the 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  IX.  329 

kitchen  stairs  called  ?  3.  What  is  the  peculiarity  of  the  oesoph- 
agus? 4.  What  is  at  the  bottom  of  the  oesophagus?  5.  What 
is  this  door  called  ? — ANS.  The  cardiac  orifice.  6.  What  is  the 
shape  of  the  kitchen  ?  What  is  its  color  ?  7.  What  is  peculiar 
about  the  walls?  8.  What  is  this  for?  9.  What  are  in  the 
walls?.  10.  What  are  these  hollows? — ANS.  They  are  glands. 
ii.  What  is  their  function? — ANS.  The  secretion  of  gastric 
juice.  12.  What  do  we  call  gastric  juice? — ANS.  The  cook. 
13.  What  organ  do  we  call  the  kitchen  of  our  house? — ANS. 
The  stomach.  14.  How  many  walls  has  the  stomach?  15 
What  power  have  they?  16.  In  which  direction  do  the  different 
walls  contract?  17.  What  effect  has  this  upon  the  food  in  the 
stomach?  18.  How  long  is  this  motion  continued  ?  19.  What 
does  gastric  juice  do?  20.  What  opening  leads  out  of  the 
stomach  ?  21.  What  is  a  sphincter  muscle? — ANS.  It  is  a  cir- 
cular muscle  that  closes  an  orifice,  as  the  sphincter  muscle  of  the 
mouth  ?  22.  What  is  done  with  fluids  taken  into  the  stomach  ? 
23.  What  is  the  effect  if  fluids  are  taken  during  digestion  ?  24. 
What  if  the  fluids  are  cold  ?  25.  What  is  the  normal  tempera- 
ture of  the  stomach?  26.  Why  should  we  chew  our  food  thor- 
oughly ?  27.  Why  should  we  not  eat  too  much  ?  28.  Why 
should  we  eat  regularly  ?  29.  Ought  we  to  take  fluids  between 
meals?  30.  Ought  we  to  drink  cold  fluids  during  digestion? 
31.  Ought  we  to  drink  hot  fluids  during  digestion? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  IX.— PAGE  65. 

I.  What  is  the  door  leading  out  of  the  stomach  called?  2. 
What  does  it  mean  ?  3.  When  is  the  food  allowed  to  pass  this 
guard  ?  4.  If  food  is  not  digested  what  happens  ?  5.  If  it  can 
not  be  digested  what  happens  ?  6.  What  effect  may  this  have  on 
the  pylorus  ?  7.  If  dangerous  substances  are  taken  into  the 
stomach  what  happens?  8.  How  long  a  time  is  employed  in 
stomach  digestion  ?  9.  What  is  the  duodenum  ? — ANS.  It  is  the 
beginning  of  the  small  intestines.  10.  Why  is  it  so  called?  II, 


330  AIDS  TO   TEACHERS  AND  SCHOLARS. 

With  what  is  the  duodenum  fitted  up?  12.  What  is  their  func- 
tion ? — ANS.  First,  to  present  a  larger  surface  for  secretion 
second,  to  prevent  the  food  passing  along  too  fast ;  third,  by  thus 
preventing  a  too  rapid  passage  of  the  food  to  assist  in  mixing  it 
more  thoroughly.  13.  What  assistants  begin  their  work  in  this 
room?  14.  What  organ  secretes  pancreatic  juice?  15.- What 
organ  secretes  bile ?  16.  How  do  they  reach  the  duodenum? 
17.  Are  they  alike  in  their  functions  ?  18.  What  are  the  kinds 
of  food  we  eat?  Name  them.  19.  What  does  saliva  digest ? 
20.  What  does  gastric  juice  digest  ?  21.  What  does  pancreatic 
juice  digest  ?  22.  What  does  bile  digest  ?  23.  What  other 
work  does  he  do?  24.  What  is  biliousness  ?  25.  Why  do  we 
need  fat  ?  26.  Why  do  we  need  less  meat  in  summer  than  in 
winter  ? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  X.— PAGE  71. 

i.  How  wide  and  long  is  the  dining-room?  2.  Where  is  it 
situated  ?  How  many  walls  ?  Describe  them.  3.  What  are  the 
first  two-fifths  of  the  dining-room  called  ?  4.  What  are  the  other 
three-fifths  called  ?  5.  What  is  the  dining-room  ?  6.  What 
fluid  is  secreted  by  the  small  intestines  ?  7.  What  is  its  func- 
tion ?  8.  What  are  found  in  the  small  intestines  ?  9.  What  are 
the  functions  of  the  villi  ?  10.  What  is  the  food  in  the  small  ,n- 
testines  called  ?  n.  What  do  the  villi  do  for  us  ?  12.  What  do 
they  do  with  what  they  eat?  13.  Follow  a  mouthful  of  food 
through  the  process  of  digestion.  14.  What  moves  the  food 
through  the  intestines?  15.  What  is  this  motion  called?  16. 
What  may  cause  a  pain  in  the  bowels?  17.  What  do  we  find 
at  the  lower  end  of  the  small  intestines  ?  18.  Into  what  does  it 
open?  19.  What  lines  the  walls  of  the  colon?  20.  Is  all  the 
food  which  we  eat  entirely  used  up  ?  21.  What  really  nourishes 
us1* 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XI.  331 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XL— PAGE  79. 

i.  How  many  tenants  has  the  House  Beautiful  ?  2.  What  hap- 
pens when  the  tenant  moves  out  ?  3.  How  can  we  tell  whether 
the  tenant  has  moved  out  ?  4.  What  is  peculiar  about  the  House 
Beautiful  ?  5.  In  very  new  house*  how  does  the  engine  work  ? 

6.  At  one  year  old  how  many  strokes  will  it  make  in  a  minute  ? 

7.  At  three  years  old  ?     8.  At  thirty  years  ?     At  eighty  ?     9.  II 
the  engine  varies  from  this  what  do  we  know  ?     10.  What  is 
the  engine?     n.  Where  does  the  heart  lie?     12.  What  shape  is 
the  heart?     13.  How  is  the  heart  divided  first?     14.  How  is  it 
then  divided?     15.  What  are  the  upper  divisions  called?     16. 
What  are  the  lower  divisions  called  ?    17.  Which  are  the  larger? 
— ANS.  The  ventricles.     18.  What  kind  of  blood  is  in  the  right 
side  of  the  heart?     19.  What  kind  in  the  left  side?     20.  What 
brings  the  blood  from  the  upper  part  of  the  body  to  the  heart  ? 
21.  What  brings  it  from  the  lower  part  of  the  body  ?   22.  Where 
does  it  empty? — ANS.  Into  the  right  auricle.     23.  What  sends 
the  blood  into  the  right  ventricle  ?     24.   What  is  there  between 
the  auricle  and  ventricle  ?     25.  Why  can  not  the  valves  swing 
back  into  the  auricle  ?     26.  Where  does  the  blood  go  from  the 
right  ventricle  ?     27.  What  valves  are  here  ?     28.  What  brings 
the  blood  to  the  left  auricle  ?     From  where  ?     29.  Where  does 
the  blood  go  from  the  left  auricle  ?   30.  Where  from  the  left  ven- 
tricle?    31.  Where  from  the  aorta?   32.  Where  are  the  bi-cus- 
pid  valves  ?     33.   Where  are  the  tri-cuspid  valves  ?     34.   What 
other  name  have  the  bi-cuspid  valves  ?     Why  ?     35.  Which  side 
of  the  heart  has  the  thicker  walls  ?    Why  ?    36.  How  much  will 
each  ventricle  hold  ?    37.  How  often  does  a  man's  heart  beat  in  a 
minute?     38.  How  often  in  an  hour?     39.  How  many  strokes 
mil  that  make  in  an  hour?     40.  How  many  strokes  in  a  day? 
41.  How  many  ounces  will  the  heart  raise  in  a  day  ?   How  many 
tons  ?     42.  When  does  the  heart  rest  ?     43.  When  does  it  rest 
most  ?    44.   What  is  the  effect  of  over-exertion  upon  the  heart  ? 


332 


AIDS  TO   TEACHERS  AND  SCHOLARS. 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XII. — PAGE  87. 

i.  What  is  the  duty  of  a  housekeeper?  2.  Who  does  the  re- 
pairing ?  3.  Who  selects  the  material  ?  4.  And  gives  it  ttf 
whom  ?  5.  Who  is  the  housekeeper  of  our  house  ?  Starts  from 
where  ?  6.  What  makes  the  color  of  her  dress  ?  7.  With  what 
tre  the  red  corpuscles  loaded  and  what  do  they  do  ?  8.  What 
is  the  shape  of  these  corpuscles?  9.  How  many  of  them  in  an 
inch  side  by  side  ?  10.  What  else  does  the  blood  carry  ? 
II.  What  size,  and  how  many?  12.  In  what  do  these  corpuscles 
float?  13.  Through  what  hall  does  the  housekeeper  go?  14. 
What  force  hurries  her  along  and  through  what  doors?  15, 
Where  does  she  go  through  the  halls?  16.  Describe  these 
halls,  their  name.  17.  How  can  you  feel  the  blood  passing 
through  the  arteries?  18.  When  the  halls  are  very  narrow  what 
are  they  called?  19.  How  does  blood  change  her  dress  in  the 
capillaries  ?  20.  What  does  she  carry  back  toward  the  heart  ? 
21.  How  does  she  leave  the  capillaries  ?  22.  How  does  she 
reach  the  heart  from  the  feet  ?  23.  How  from  the  upper  part  of 
the  body  ?  24.  How  do  the  veins  differ  from  the  arteries  ?  25. 
Do  they  communicate  with  each  other  ?  26.  What  veins  arc 
provided  with  valves  ?  27.  What  does  holding  your  hand  above 
your  head  prove  ?  28.  How  does  the  blood  flow  through  veins  ? 
Through  arteries  ?  29.  How  is  knowledge  of  this  fact  useful  ? 

30.  What  is  the  difference  between  cutting  an  artery  and  a  vein  ? 

31.  How  much  more  blood  do  the  capillaries  contain  than  the 
arteries  ?     32.  What  portion  of  the  body — in  weight — is  blood  ? 
33.  How  long  is  the  blood  in  passing  through  the  heart  ?     34. 
Where  does  the  blood  travel  faster — in  arteries  or  veins  ?     35. 
How  many  inches  in  a  second  near  the  heart  ?     36.  At  the  foot 
how  many  ?    37.  How  do  the  corpuscles  move  in  the  capillaries? 
38.     Do  they  crowd  each  other?     39.  Where  do  capillaries  ex- 
ist ?    40.  What  is  blushing?    41.  What  is  finer  than  a  needle- 
point ?    42.  What  will  the  housekeeper  do  if  the  door  is  opened  r 
^3.     Who  stops  bleeding  when  it  occurs  ?     44.  What  does  she 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XIII.  333 

carry  with  her?  Who  tangles  around  her  feet?  45.  Wnat  is 
this  tangling  called  ?  How  -does  it  act  ?  46.  What  stops  the 
bleeding?  47.  Where  does  nutrition  take  place?  48.  How? 
49.  What  does  a  nerve  say?  50.  What  does  a  bone  say?  51.  A 
muscle?  52.  What  does  a  hair  say?  53.  What  does  each 
one  get  ?  54.  What  if  each  does  not  get  what  he  desires  ?  55. 
Who  has  provided  everything  needful?  56.  Where  do  we 
obtain  food  ? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XIII.— PAGE  95. 

i.  Who  is  our  washerwoman?  2.  Where  does  she  enter? 
3.  What  if  she  is  cold  ?  4.  What  occurs  to  foreigners  ?  5.  Where 
does  she  now  enter  ?  6.  Through  what  stairway  does  she  go  ? 
Its  name?  7.  What  keeps  it  open?  How  many?  8.  Where 
does  the  trachea  divide  ?  9.  Where  do  they  lead  ?  10.  What 
are  they  called?  n.  In  what  do  they  terminate?  12.  How 
large  are  these  tubs?  13.  How  many  tubs  or  air-cells  in  the 
lungs  ?  14.  How  thick  are  the  walls  of  these  air-cells  ?  1 5.  How 
large  a  surface  would  they  cover?  16.  How  does  the  blood  reach 
the  lungs?  17.  How  small  are  the  smallest  capillary  tubes  ?  18. 
What  do  they  resemble  ?  19.  What  are  they  called  ?  20.  What 
do  they  encircle  ?  21.  With  what  are  they  filled  ?  22.  Of  what 
does  the  laundry  consist  ?  23.  What  is  remarkable  about  these 
rooms  ?  24.  What  is  the  floor  of  the  thorax  called  ?  Its  shape  ? 
25.  How  does  this  change  the  cavity  of  the  thorax  ?  26.  What 
are  the  bony  walls  of  the  thorax  ?  27.  With  what  covered  ?  How 
do  they  act  ?  28.  How  do  we  breathe  the  air  out  ?  29.  What 
is  breathing  in  called?  Breathing  out?  30.  Both  together? 
What  is  expiration  ?  31.  What  do  physiologists  say  ?  32.  Why 
are  the  two  types  of  breathing  so  called  ?  33.  What  is  my  se- 
cret ?  34.  Which  type  of  breathing  is  artificial? — ANS.  The 
*hoiacic.  35.  Who  know  how  to  breathe  ?  36.  Why  did  Aura 
enter  the  house  with  alacrity  ?  37.  What  is  she  always  trying  to 
do  ?  38.  What  is  Aura's  washing  fluid  ?  39.  What  does  she 
receive  from  the  blood  ?  40.  What  does  she  give  to  the  blood  ? 


334  AIDS  TO  TEACHERS  AND  SCHOLARS. 

41.  What  effect  does  this  have  on  the  blood?  42.  What  effect 
on  Aura  ?  43.  What  would  happen  if  you  invited  her  back 
at  once  ?  44.  Where  should  she  shake  her  garments  ?  What 
happens  ?  45.  What  is  osmosis  ?  46.  Describe  washing  the 
blood.  47.  How  often  does  Aura  go  in  and  out  ?  48.  Why  do 
we  breathe?  49.  What  is  the  most  important  food  of  the  body  ? 
Why?  50.  Why  must  the  supply  be  constant?  51.  Where  do 
we  get  hungry  ?  52.  Where  do  we  get  thirsty  ?  53.  What  is 
sighing?  Yawning?  54.  Are  the  lungs  filled  and  emptied  at 
every  breath  ?  55.  What  is  a  cube  ?  56.  How  much  does  a  pint 
cup  hold  ?  57.  How  much  goes  in  and  out  with  every  breath  ? 
58.  What  is  this  called  ?  59.  What  is  complemental  air  ?  60. 
What  is  reserve  air?  61.  What  is  residual  air?  62.  What  is 
vital  capacity  ?  63.  What  peculiarity  of  the  Gas  family  is  men- 
tioned ?  64.  What  is  this  called  ?  65.  What  are  the  cilia  ?  66. 
What  do  they  do  ?  67.  What  ought  we  to  think  about  breath- 
ing ?  68,  What  is  our  best  food  ?  69.  What  poison  does  Aura 
sometimes  take  with  her?  70.  Have  we  a  right  to  pure  air? 
71.  By  what  door  should  Aura  enter  and  depart?  72.  What  is 
snoring  ?  73.  What  doors  should  you  shut  on  going  to  sleep  ? 
74.  Why  should  you  shut  the  mouth?  75.  When  should  you 
shut  your  mouth  and  open  your  eyes  ? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XIV.— PAGE  107. 

i.  Where  is  the  furnace  located?  2.  What  is  the  furnace? 
3.  What  are  glands?  4.  What  does  the  liver  manufacture? 
How  do  we  know?  5.  How  can  we  prove  that  there  is  a  fire? 
6.  How  much  does  the  liver  weigh  ?  7.  How  large  is  it  ?  8. 
Where  does  it  lie?  9.  What  effect  has  a  tight  dress?  10.  How 
does  it  complain?  n.  What  does  being  bilious  mean?  12. 
How  is  the  liver  divided?  13.  What  is  in  a  niche  in  the  right 
iobe?  14.  How  much  does  it  hold?  With  what  filled?  Its 
name?  15.  What  makes  the  quartette  of  quintettes  ?  16.  What 
does  the  portal  vein  say?  17.  What  is  the  portal  system  ?  18 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPITER  XVI.  33^ 

What  are  lobules  ?  19.  What  between  the  lobules  ?  20.  What 
artery  brings  blood  to  the  liver?  21.  What  does  the  hepatic  duct 
do?  22.  How  much  bile  made  each  day?  23.  How  is  the  bile 
used?  24.  Where  is  the  bile  probably  made?  25.  Where  is 
the  sugar  made  ?  26.  What  is  stranger  than  a  fairy  tale  ?  27. 
Out  of  what  do  they  make  the  sugar  ?  28.  How  is  sugar  used 
in  the  body?  29.  Why  should  we  not  eat  too  much  candy?  30. 
What  is  the  normal  temperature  of  our  house?  31.  Are  we  as 
warm  as  we  suppose  when  we  run  ?  32.  What  is  a  second  way 
in  which  our  house  is  heated  ?  33.  What  is  oxidation  ?  34. 
What  is  the  third  way  of  warming  our  ho'use  ?  35.  What  do 
the  lungs  do  to  the  cold  air?  36.  What  three  modes  then  of 
heating  the  house  ?  37.  How  much  does  sawing  wood  raise  the 
temperature  of  the  biceps  muscle  ? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XV. — PAGE  115. 

i .  What  is  secretion  ?  2.  What  is  excretion  ?  3.  Why  are 
the  mysterious  chambers  not  excretory  organs  ?  4.  What  are 
they  ?  5.  Why  are  they  not  for  secretion  ?  6.  Where  is  the 
thyroid  gland  ?  7.  Where  is  the  thymus  gland  ?  8.  What  can 
you  tell  about  them  ?  9.  Where  are  the  pituitary  body  and  pi- 
neal gland?  10.  Who  find  out  about  their  use?  u.  Where 
are  the  supra-renal  capsules?  12.  What  did  Addison  think  they 
were  for  ?  13.  Where  are  the  tonsils  ?  They  are  a  pair  of  mys- 
terious chambers  in  the  hall  or  mouth,  just  in  front  of  the  pink 
curtain.  14.  What  can  you  say  about  them?  15.  What  is  the 
last  mysterious  chamber,  and  where  located  ?  16.  How  large  is 
it?  17.  What  is  the  spleen?  18.  What  have  physiologists  no- 
ticed ?  19.  Of  what  do  they  feel  sure  ? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XVI.— PAGE  122. 
i.  Where  is  the  central  office  in  our  telegraph  system  ?   Name 
it.     2.  How  many  cells  are  employed  by  the  Western  Union  Tele- 


336  AIDS  TO   TEACHERS  AND  SCHOLARS. 

graph  Company?     How  many  in  our  system  ?      3.    What  do  we 
call  our  electricity  ?     4.  What  do  we  call  our  telegraph   wires  ? 

5.  How  many  pairs  of  nerve-cables  go  out  from  the  central  office  ? 

6.  What  is  a  nerve-cable  ? — ANS.  A  great  number  of  nerves  go- 
ing out  in  a  bundle  enclosed  in  one  sheath.      7.  Where  are  our 
branch  offices  located  ?      8.  How  many  of  them  are  there  ?      9. 
How  are  the  vertebrae  put  together?      10.  What  passes  down 
"hrough  these  holes  ?    n.  Of  what  is  the  spinal  cord  made?    12. 
Where  are  the  gray  cells  in  the  brain?      13.  Where  are  they  in 
the  spinal  cord?     14.  By  what  are  they  surrounded  ?     15.  What 
does  this  white  material  form  ?      16.  From  what  points  do  they 
issue?      17.  Where  are  these  white  threads  distributed  ?      18. 
What  is  a  ganglion?      19.  What  may  it  be  considered?      20. 
What  is  the  cerebro-spinal  nervous  system?      21.  What  is  the 
meaning  of  insulated  ? — ANS.    When  a  wire  is  wrapped  in  such 
a  way  that  the  electricity  can  not  pass  from  that  wire  to  another 
it  is  called  insulated.     22.  What  is  the  sheath  of  the  nerve-cable 
called  ?     23.  Describe  a  nerve.     24.  What  is  the  axis  cylinder  of 
a  nerve?     25.  What  is  communicated  through  it  ?     26.  How  do 
nerve-fibres  terminate  ?   27.  Do  nerve-cables  interchange  fibres  ? 
28.  Do  the  fibres  lose  their  identity  ?      29.    How   many  kinds  ol 
nerve-fibres  ?    30.  What  is  the  duty  of  a  nerve  of  sensation  ?   31. 
What  is  the  duty  of  a  nerve  of  motion  ?      32.  Do  they  ever  ex- 
change works  ?   33.  Do  they  communicate  with  each  other  ?   34. 
Where  do  they  go  to  give  their  information  ?     35.  What  are  the 
nerve-cables  that  pass  out  from  the  front  of  the  spinal  cord  ?   36. 
What  from  the  back  part  of  the  cord  ? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XVII.— PAGE  129. 

i.  What  is  a  phonograph  ?  2.  Have  we  anything  like  it  in  our 
House  Beautiful  ?  3.  What  does  it  repeat  ?  4.  What  is  it  called  ? 
5.  What  do  we  find  on  the  sensory  nerves  of  the  cerebro-spinal 
system  ?  6.  What  are  these  ganglia  ?  7.  Where  does  the  other 
division  begin?  8.  How  many  of  these  ganglia?  9.  Where  do 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XVIII.  337 

they  pass?  10.  How  are  they  intimately  connected  with  the 
cerebro-spinal  system?  n.  What  do  we  find  in  every  part  oi 
the  body?  12.  What  do  the  fibres  of  the  sympathetic  system 
form?  13.  Where  are  they  found?  14,  What  is  a  plexus? 
15.  Where  does  the  cerebro-spinal  system  carry  messages  ?  16. 
From  whom  does  the  sympathetic  system  receive  its  orders  ? 
17.  What  govern  all  bodily  processes  which  are  not  under  contro1 
of  the  will  ?  1 8.  Give  an  illustration.  19.  How  can  we  govern 
the  action  of  the  lungs  ?  20.  What  can  you  say  of  swallowing? 

21.  What  two  nervous  systems  govern  the  act  of  swallowing? 

22.  Is  digestion  voluntary?     23.  Describe  digestion.     24.  What 
orders  are  given  when  food  enters  the  duodenum?     25.  What 
takes  place  in  the  small  intestines  ?     26.  Into  what  glands  does 
the  food  pass  ?     27.  Through  what  duct  ?     28.  Into  what  vein  ? 
29.  Where  ?     30.  What  is  done  with  that  which  is  not  nourish- 
ing ?     31.  What  are  the  strainers  ?     32.  What  do  they  separate 
from  the  blood  ? 

QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XVIII. — PAGE  134. 

i.  What  safeguard  has  our  House  ?  2.  What  have  you 
learned  in  regard  to  the  Observatory  ?  3.  What  in  regard  to 
the  Telegraph  ?  4.  For  what  purpose  are  some  of  these  wires 
and  batteries  used  ?  5.  To  what  part  of  the  House  do  they  go  ? 

6.  What  nerves  are  we  speaking  of  and  where  do  they  arise  ? 

7.  What  is  said  of  Pain  ?     8.  What  in  regard  to  his  warnings  ? 
9.  Where  do  the  Nerves  of  Sensation  end  ?     10.  Where  are  they 
most  abundant?     n.  What  can  we  see  at  the  ends  of  our  fin- 
gers ?     12.  Where  are  the  tactile  corpuscles  in  greatest  num- 
bers ?     13.  What  proportion  of  them  on  the  ends  of  the  fingers  ? 
14.  What  on  the  second  joint  ?     15.  What  is  the  forearm?     16. 
Why  should  we  expect  that  the  forearm  would  not  be  very  sen- 
sitive ?     17.  Why  are  some  parts  of  the  body  more  sensitive  than 
others  ?— ANS.  Because  they  are  supplied  with  a  greater  propor- 
tion of  tactile  corpuscles  in  the  papillae.     18.  What  sensations 
have  we  besides  pain  ?     19.  What  illustration  of  how  the  sense 
of  touch  can  be  educated  ? 

15 


338  AIDS  TO   TEACHERS  AND  SCHOLARS. 

QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XIX.— PAGE  137. 

i.  How  many  senses  have  you  been  told  that  you  have 
2.  How  many  have  you  ?  3.  What  can  you  tell  of  yourself  with 
your  eyes  shut  ?  4.  In  lifting  a  pail  of  water,  of  what  do  you 
think  ?  5.  Do  you  have  to  try  twice  in  order  to  know  how  much 
strength  to  use  to  lift  it?  6.  How  do  you  know  just  how  much 
strength  tr  use?  7.  What  do  we  call  this  sixth  sense?  8. 
What  do  you  learn  by  muscular  sense  ?  9.  How  acute  does 
this  sense  become  by  cultivation  ?  Illustrate.  10.  In  walking 
what  does  muscular  sense  tell  us?  n.  How  does  the  loss  of 
this  sense  in  the  legs  and  back  affect  one?  12.  Can  one  sense 
assist  another?  13.  What  sense  assists  muscular  sense?  14. 
What  is  necessary  when  muscular  sense  is  lost?  15.  Illustrate. 
16.  Can  muscular  sense  supply  loss  of  sight?  Illustrate.  17. 
Who  have  muscular  sense  well  developed?  18.  Can  you  illus- 
trate this  by  an  incident  of  a  great  fire  in  New  York  ? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XX.— PAGE  141. 

i.  What  is  the  finest  musical  instrument  ?  2.  What  is  in  the 
throat  ?  3.  Describe  the  larynx.  4.  What  is  the  epi-glotth  f 
5.  When  is  it  open  ?  6.  When  closed  ?  7.  What  do  we  find 
near  its  top?  8.  How  are  they  situated?  What  named?  9. 
How  can  you  illustrate  the  larynx  ?  10.  Try  it.  What  do  your 
thumbs  represent  ?  n.  What  does  the  opening  between  your 
thumbs  represent  ?  12.  What  is  the  movement  when  we  breathe  ? 
13.  What  is  it  to  vibrate  ?  14.  If  sufficiently  rapid  what  will  it 
produce  ?  15.  What  kind  of  a  tone  does  a  long  string  produce  ? 
A  short  one?  16.  How  many  vocal  chords  are  there?  17. 
What  do  the  nine  little  muscles  do  ?  18.  What  is  the  effect  of 
tightening  the  chords  ?  19.  What  causes  the  tone  in  the  flute  ? 
20.  With  what  does  the  pitch  of  a  note  vary?  21.  How  is  the 
human  voice  produced  ?  22.  In  low  sounds  how  is  the  column 
of  air  affected  ?  In  high  sounds  ?  23.  What  is  the  reed  of  a 
melodeon  ?  24.  What  effect  has  shortening  the  chords  ?  25, 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XXL  339 

What  causes  the  chords  to  vibrate  ?  What  acts  as  the  sound- 
ing-board of  the  human  organ  ?  26.  What  effect  has  a  sound- 
ing-board ?  27.  What  are  the  bellows  of  the  voice  ?  28.  What 
pumps  these  bellows  ?  29.  What  difference  is  there  in  voices  ? 
30.  What  makes  the  bass  voice?  31.  What  the  baritone  or  tenor? 
32.  What  the  contralto  or  soprano  ?  33.  What  is  said  of  our 
simple  instrument  ?  34.  What  is  the  range  of  the  human  voice  ? 
35.  What  is  the  average  compass  ?  36.  What  is  timbre  in  a 
voice  ?  37.  Upon  what  does  it  depend  ?  38.  Can  the  timbre  of 
the  voice  be  changed  by  proper  instruction  ?  39.  Upon  what 
does  the  strength  of  the  voice  depend  ?  40.  How  is  the  voice 
like  a  violin  ?  41.  Why  is  it  like  a  piano  ?  42.  Why  like  a  flute  ? 
43,  Why  more  like  an  organ  ? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XXL— PAGE  148. 

i.  What  is  the  pinna  ?  2.  How  is  it  attached  to  the  head  ?  3. 
How  many  muscles  has  each  ear  ?  4.  What  are  they  called  ? 
5.  Try  and  move  your  ears.  6.  What  is  in  the  centre  of  the 
pinna?  7.  What  guards  are  stationed  at  the  entrance  to  the 
ear? — ANS.  Hairs  and  ear-wax.  8.  Where  does  the  doorway 
lead  ?  9.  What  is  the  name  of  the  bone  through  which  the  chan- 
nel is  tunneled  ?  10.  How  is  it  lined?  What  is  it  called ?  n. 
What  directions  does  this  channel  take?  12.  Does  it  get  larger? 
13.  How  long  is  this  canal?  14.  How  is  it  closed ?  15.  Is  it  a 
movable  curtain  ?  16.  How  can  we  get  on  the  other  side  of  the 
curtain?  17.  What  passage  leads  from  the  throat  to  the  ear ? 
1 8.  How  long  is  it?  19.  What  is  the  auditorium?  20.  Where 
is  it  ?  21.  What  is  this  curtain  called  ?  22.  Which  way  does 
the  top  lean  ?  23.  What  is  the  furniture  of  the  middle  ear.  24. 
Upon  what  does  the  head  of  the  hammer  play  ?  25.  To  what  is 
the  handle  attached  ?  26.  What  other  furniture  is  there  in  the 
middle  ear  ?  27.  For  what  is  the  stirrup  used  ?  28.  What  is 
this  window  called?  29.  Of  what  material  is  this  furniture 
made?  30.  How  arranged?  31.  What  is  necessary ?  32.  How 


340  AIDS  TO   TEACHERS  AND  SCHOLARS. 

many  muscles  are  needed  for  this  purpose?  33.  How  are  tv  >} 
attached  ?  34.  What  is  the  effect  of  their  action  ?  35.  Through 
what  does  an  air-wave  communicate  ?  36.  What  fills  the  mid- 
dle ear?  37.  How  does  it  communicate  with  the  outer  air?  38, 
How  can  pain  in  the  ear  sometimes  be  relieved? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XXII.— PAGE  155. 

i.  Where  is  our  whispering  gallery?  2.  From  what  point  do 
we  start  to  visit  this  gallery  ?  3.  What  do  we  find  there  ?  4. 
What  do  they  form?  5.  What  nerve  does  it  touch  in  passing 
out?  6.  Where  does  it  hide  itself?  7.  Where  does  it  divide? 
8.  Where  does  one  portion  go  ?  9.  What  kind  of  waves  do  we 
hear?  10.  Through  what  do  they  pass  ?  n.  Name  the  three 
bones.  12.  What  closes  the  oval  window?  13.  What  is  be- 
yond this  oval  window?  14.  What  is  the  first  division  of  the 
whispering  gallery?  15.  How  have  we  already  reached  this  same 
place?  1 6.  To  what  is  the  vestibule  an  entrance?  17.  What 
is  the  meaning  of  labyrinth  ?  i'8.  What  do  we  find  in  the  vesti- 
bule ?  19.  What  are  the  name  and  shape  of  the  first  ?  20.  What 
of  the  second  ?  21.  What  do  they  contain  ?  22.  What  are  their 
names?  23.  In  what  animals  are  they  found?  24.  What  open 
out  of  the  vestibule  ?  25.  Where  do  they  lead  ?  26.  By  what 
is  it  surrounded  ?  27.  How  many  of  these  passageways  are 
there  ?  28.  What  do  they  contain  ?  29.  What  is  their  shape  ? 
30.  If  we  enter  one  where  will  we  come  out  ?  31.  Where  is  the 
branch  of  the  nerve  going  to  the  vestibule  distributed?  32. 
Where  do  some  think  the  nerves  terminate  ?  33.  Can  we  hear 
without  the  otoliths  ?  34.  What  begin  in  the  vestibule?  35. 
How  often  do  they  wind  around  ?  36.  What  is  the  top  like  ?  37. 
What  is  the  cochlea  ?  38.  What  is  said  of  the  wall  between 
these  stairways  ?  39.  What  is  in  this  hollow?  40.  What  fills 
this  stairway?  41.  What  do  we  find  climbing  this  stairway? 
42.  How  are  they  standing?  43.  What  do  they  form?  44. 
How  many  of  them  ?  45.  How  many  of  the  little  clubs  make 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XXIII.  34, 

&n  inch  in  length  ?  46.  Where  do  we  find  the  shortest?  47. 
Where  the  longest?  48.  What  are  they  called?  Why?  49. 
What  are  they  altogether  called  ?  50.  Where  does  the  second 
branch  of  this  nerve  go?  51.  What  do  they  pass  through  next? 
52.  Where  is  it  believed  that  they  terminate  ?  53.  Does  the  air 
make  waves?  54.  Are  they  of  different  sizes?  55.  How  do 
they  affect  the  drum  of  the  ear  ?  56.  What  is  noise  ?  57.  What 
are  strokes?  58.  What  is  a  buzz  or  humming?  59.  What  are 
musical  tones  ?  60.  What  are  tones  of  influence  ? — ANS.  When 
the  vibrations  of  one  tuning-fork  are  communicated  through  the 
air  to  a  second  fork  of  the  same  pitch  the  tones  produced  by  the 
second  fork  are  called  tones  of  influence.  61.  How  are  the  pil- 
lars of  Corti  acted  upon?  62.  What  do  they  whisper  to  us? 
63.  What  is  the  range  of  vibrations  heard  by  the  ear  ?  64. 
What  is  the  compass  of  the  best  ear?  65.  What  is  the  compass 
of  an  ordinary  ear?  66.  Who  could  not  hear  the  chirp  of  the 
common  sparrow  ?  67.  What  produces  waves  of  water  ?  68. 
What  waves  do  the  most  harm  ?  69.  How  does  the  agitation  of 
the  ocean  affect  it  ?  70.  What  improves  the  air  in  cities  ? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XXIII.— PAGE  165. 

i.  How  many  windows  in  our  House  Beautiful  ?  2.  Where 
located  ?  3.  What  separates  them  ?  4.  What  protects  them 
below  ?  5.  What  is  the  hollow  within  these  bones  called  ?  6. 
What  nearly  fills  it  ?  7.  What  is  behind  the  eyeball  ?  8.  What 
does  it  do  ?  9.  Why  are  the  eyes  so  protected  ?  10.  What  is 
there  over  each  ?  n.  When  does  it  come  down  ?  12.  How  is 
it  trimmed  along  the  edge?  13.  Is  this  fringe  all  for  looks? 
14.  How  does  it  protect?  15.  What  moves  these  awnings? 
16.  When  do  they  work,  and  how  ?  17.  What  do  they  do  when 
you  are  asleep  ?  18.  What  is  the  name  of  these  awnings  ?  19. 
What  is  the  shape  of  the  windows  ?  20.  Are  they  like  a  sphere  ? 
21.  Which  diameter  is  the  greater?  22.  What  is  the  outside 
covering  of  the  eyeball  called  ?  23.  What  proportion  of  the  eye- 


342  AIDS  TO  TEACHERS  AND  SCHOLARS. 

ball  does  it  cover?  24.  What  is  it  generally  called  ?  25.  Why 
is  it  opaque  ?  26.  What  covers  the  other  sixth  of  the  eyeball  ? 
27.  How  thick  is  it?  28.  How  strong  is  it?  29.  What  does 
transparent  mean  ?  30.  Where  are  the  curtains  ?  31.  What  are 
they  like  ?  32.  How  many  of  them  ?  33.  What  are  they  called  ? 
34.  What  form  the  first  coat  of  the  eye  ?  35.  What  the  second 
coat  ?  36.  What  is  its  color  ?  37.  What  part  of  the  eyeball 
does  it  cover  ?  38.  What  does  it  leave  in  front  ?  39.  What 
covers  this  on  the  outside  ?  40.  How  are  the  edges  of  this  cir- 
cular opening  arranged  ?  41.  What  are  they  called  ?  42.  What 
laps  on  over  these  ?  43.  What  is  the  ciliary  muscle  ?  44.  What 
is  its  function  ?  45.  What  is  the  Latin  name  of  the  portiere  in 
the  window  ?  46.  What  does  it  mean  ?  47.  What  has  the  iris 
in  the  centre  ?  48.  How  large  is  this  opening  ?  49.  How  large 
is  the  curtain  ?  50.  What  color  ?  51.  With  what  does  its  color 
generally  harmonize  ?  52.  What  is  the  opening  in  the  iris  called  ? 
53.  What  closes  the  pupil  ?  54.  Who  manages  these  curtains  ? 
55.  What  is  the  third  coat  called  ?  56.  Where  is  it  located  ? — 
ANS.  Inside  ot  the  choroid  coat.  57.  What  is  inside  of  this 
coat  ?  58.  What  kind  of  a  body  is  it  ?  59.  What  shape  is  it  ? 
60.  How  is  it  in  front?  61.  Where  is  this  hollow?  62.  What 
is  in  this  hollow  ?  63.  What  is  the  shape  of  a  convex  lens  ? 
64.  What  is  the  shape  of  this  crystalline  lens  ?  65.  Where  is  it 
placed  ?  66.  What  passes  through  it  ?  67.  What  holds  it  in 
place  ?  68.  What  kind  of  a  membrane  is  it  ?  69.  What  com- 
pletes the  choroid  coat  ?  70.  What  hangs  in  front  of  the  lens  ? 
71.  How  does  the  iris  divide  the  eye  ?  72.  What  are  these  two 
chambers  called  ?  73.  Who  washes  these  windows  ?  74.  Where 
is  the  lachrymal  gland  ?  75.  What  does  it  do  ?  76.  What  se- 
cretes the  tears?  77.  How  many  ducts  has  it?  78.  Where 
does  this  watery  fluid  collect  ?  79.  Where  is  it  used  ?  For 
what?  80.  What  is  winking?  What  prevents  friction?  81. 
Where  does  this  fluid  go  after  It  has  washed  the  eye  ?  82.  What 
opening  along  the  lower  lids  ?  83.  What  do  they  furnish  ?  84. 
What  does  it  do  ?  8$.  What  is  the  effect  if  the  tears  run  over 
the  cheeks  ?  86.  What  effect  has  sorrow  ?  87.  What  animal 
can  weep  over  the  sorrows  of  others  ? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XXI V.  343 

QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XXIV. — PAGE  175. 

2.  Who  sits  in  darkness  and  silence?  2.  When  does  he  leave 
*Jie  House  Beautiful  ?  3.  How  does  he  learn  of  the  outer  world  ? 
4.  What  originate  among  the  nerve-cells  ?  5.  What  do  they 
constitute  ?  6.  How  does  the  man  become  acquainted  with  him- 
self? 7.  How  does  he  become  acquainted  with  the  "  Not  me"? 
8.  What  indicates  the  importance  of  the  double  telescope  ?  9. 
What  is  a  telescope  ?  10.  What  are  used  to  change  their  posi- 
tion ?  ii.  What  kind  of  telescopes  has  the  Man  Wonderful  ? 
12.  What  is  the  common  name  for  them?  13.  How  many  mus- 
cles are  there  to  move  each  eye  ?  14.  What  is  said  of  the  su- 
perior oblique  muscle  ?  15.  What  cause  the  eyeball  to  rotate? 

1 6.  Which  is  the  most  important  nerve  that  goes  to  the  eye  ? 

17.  Where  does  it  have  its  origin?     18.  What  form  the  optic 
commissure  ?     19.  What  is  the  arrangement  of  nerve-fibres  in 
the  optic  commissure  first  ?     Second  ?     Third  ?     Fourth  ?     20. 
Where  do  these  fibres  enter  ?     21.  With  what  do  they  connect  ? 
22.  Give  a  review  of  these  nerve-fibres.      23.  What  arrange- 
ment would  connect  the  eyes  more  intimately  ?     24.  What  is 
said  of  the  point  where  the  optic  nerve  enters  the  eye?     25. 
What  is  the  relation  of  the  optic  nerve  and  the  centra]  axis  of 
the  eye  ?     26.  What  is  there  at  the  central  axis  of  the  eye  ? 
27.  What  is  its  horizontal  diameter  ?     Its  vertical  diameter  ?     28. 
What  is  it  called  ?     29.  What  is  in  the  centre  of  it  ?     Its  name  ? 
What  light  falls  upon  the  fovea  centralis  ?     30.   What  does  the 
optic    nerve   form?     31.  What   is  its  thickness  at  the  yellow 
spot?     32.  Does  it  get  thicker?     33.  What  rests  upon  this ?    34. 
How  many  layers  of  ce  Is  at  the  yellow  spot  ?     35.  What  kind  of 
cells  ?     36.  What  does  each  one  do  ?     37.  Are  filaments  sent  in 
the  other  direction  ?     38.  With  what  do  these  latter  filaments 
connect?     39.  Where  are  the  rods  and  cones?    40.  What  are 
they?    41.  Where  does  the  light  strike?    42.  To  what  is  the 
impression  transmitted  ?     43.  What  happens  if  the  light  does 
not  strike  the  centre  of  the  yellow  spot?     44.  What  must  be 
done  to  effect  this  change  ?     45.  Through  what  transmitted  r 
What  nerves  ?     46.  To  what  ?    47.  When  too  much  light  enters 


344 


AIDS  TO  TEACHERS  AND  SCHOLARS. 


the  eyes  what  happens  ?  48.  When  the  object  is  too  near  ?  49 
What  makes  the  lens  more  convex?  50.  Are  such  messages 
sent  often  ?  51.  When  the  eyes  do  not  act  together  what  do  we 
call  it  ? — ANS.  Cross-eyed.  52.  What  enters  with  the  optic  nerve  ? 
53.  What  does  it  do  ?  54.  What  is  the  effect  of  the  reflected 
light  ?  55.  What  is  the  effect  of  light  passing  through  the  air? 
56.  What  does  the  analysis  of  light  show  ?  57.  What  is  a  radi- 
ometer ?  58.  Of  what  is  light  compounded  ?  59.  What  deter- 
mines the  color  of  light  ?  60.  What  is  the  length  of  a  wave  of 
red  light  ?  61.  At  what  rate  does  light  travel  ? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XXV. — PAGE  184. 

i.  Where  will  we  find  one  guardian  of  our  house?  2.  What 
is  his  appearance  and  nature  ?  3.  Does  he  ever  go  out  of  the 
house  ?  4.  Is  he  bashful  about  expressing  his  opinion  of  visitors? 
5.  What  is  said  of  his  friendships  ?  6.  What  is  said  of  material 
for  repairs  ?  7.  Who  examines  it  ?  8.  Is  his  decision  final  ?  9. 
What  does  he  say?  10.  What  is  his  name  ?  II.  By  what  name 
generally  known  ?  12.  Can  he  always  be  trusted  ?  13.  Of  what 
is  he  very  fond  ?  14.  What  effect  has  this  upon  the  assistants 
in  the  kitchen  ?  1 5.  Where  do  they  send  it  ?  16.  Is  this  agreeable 
to  taste?  17.  If  the  servants  are  not  strong  enough  to  send  out 
the  offending  material,  what  happens  ?  18.  What  does  the  doctor 
do?  19.  What  is  the  result?  20.  Will  taste  avoid  the  disturb- 
ing substance  after  this?  21.  What  is  therefore  important?  22. 
Who  can  discharge  him  ?  23.  What  must  we  then  do  ?  24. 
What  will  he  then  do  ?  25.  Who  should  be  master  of  the  house  ? 
26.  When  can  taste  be  trusted  ?  27.  What  will  he  like  ?  28. 
How  does  he  lose  his  ability  to  judge  correctly  ?  29.  Why  should 
we  give  him  a  good  education  ?  30.  What  does  the  taste  oJ 
children  sometimes  demand?  31.  What  do  papas  or  mammas 
sometimes  do  ?  32.  What  is  the  effect  ?  33.  What  effect  has  it 
to  deprive  him  of  company  ?  34.  What  bad  habits  may  he  ac- 
quire ?  35.  How  does  it  affect  the  cooks  ?  Why  ?  36.  Wher 


QUESTIONS  OAr  CHAPTER  XXVII.  345 

reason  does  not  govern  taste,  what  happens  ?  37.  What  is  the 
effect  of  eating  too  much  ?  38.  What  is  another  bad  habit  ?  39. 
What  does  this  cause  ?  40.  What  is  the  effect  of  indigestion  ? 
41.  Is  the  house  well  repaired  ?  42.  What  is  the  advantage  oi 
eating  slowly  ?  43.  What  is  a  third  bad  habit  ?  44.  What  food 
is  good  ? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XXVI. — PAGE  191. 

I.  Where  does  another  guardian  make  his  home?  2.  Who 
discovered  his  hiding-place  ?  3.  Where  is  it  ?  4.  Who  presides 
over  foods  and  drinks  ?  5.  Whom  can  not  he  examine  ?  6. 
Who  assists  him?  7.  What  is  said  of  Aura?  8.  To  whom  is 
she  related?  9.  What  enemy  to  life  is  spoken  of?  10.  What 
does  smell  detect?  n.  How  does  Aura  act?  12.  If  there  is 
bad  air  in  a  cellar  what  will  you  do?  13.  What  will  Aura  do? 
14.  When  does  smell  fail  to  do  his  duty?  15.  At  this  time  can 
we  tell  the  true  taste  of  food  ?  16.  When  has  smell  lost  his  con- 
science? 17.  What  is  the  effect  of  sleeping  with  closed  win- 
lows?  18.  What  opinion  does  smell  express?  19.  What 
causes  the  bad  odor?  20.  Illustrate  the  uncleanliness  of  bad 
air.  21.  Is  it  necessary  to  have  a  draft  in  a  sleeping-room  ? 
22.  How  can  we  catch  the  gases  that  are  lighter  than  air?  23. 
What  gas  is  being  thrown  off  from  the  lungs?  24.  What  is 
said  of  this  gas?  25.  What  effect  has  it  upon  a  lighted  taper? 
26.  If  we  leave  a  cup  full  what  happens  ?  27.  How  do  we  be- 
come acquainted  with  the  smell  of  a  substance  ?  28.  What  is 
said  of  a  grain  of  musk  ?  29.  What  of  contagious  diseases  ? 
30.  What  of  disinfectants  ?  31.  What  is  the  perfect  disinfect- 
ant? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XXVII. — PAGE  196. 

I.  What  is  the  fagade  of  a  house?     2.  Why  so  called?     3. 
How  may  it  be  ornamented?     4.  What  makes  an  object  beauti- 
tuT?     5.  What  is  said  of  symmetry?     6.  What  is  said  of  the 
IS* 


346          AIDS  TO  TEACHERS  AND  SCHOLARS. 

useful  ?  7.  What  is  said  of  our  foundations  ?  8.  What  of  the 
muscles  ?  9.  What  beauty  can  not  be  expressed  by  a  statue 
10.  From  what  does  the  beauty  of  the  human  form  arise?  n 
Describe  a  world  of  chance.  12.  Why  should  we  not  find  fault 
with  our  bodies?  13.  Does  the  shepherd  need  the  strength  of  a 
warrior?  Why?  14.  What  do  the  proportions  of  man  signify ? 
Those  of  woman?  15.  What  do  we  look  for  in  boyhood?  In 
manhood?  16.  Where  do  we  look  for  strength  in  the  wrestler? 
In  the  racer?  17.  Will  fitness  alone  constitute  beauty?  18. 
What  else  is  needed  ?  19.  How  can  we  judge  of  the  Man  Won- 
derful? 20.  What  can  we  tell  about  him?  21.  What  does  the 
form  of  the  babe  indicate?  Of  the  youth  ?  Of  the  man  ?  22. 
What  is  unity  of  design  ?  23.  What  part  of  the  body  is  the 
most  expressive  ?  24.  From  what  do  we  judge  of  character  ? 
25.  How  do  we  sometimes  speak  of  lifeless  things  ?  26.  What 
gives  expression  to  the  face  ?  27.  What  can  you  do  with  your 
face  to  affect  your  feelings  ?  28.  What  does  attitude  of  the  body 
express?  29.  What  two  ways  have  we  of  expressing  feeling? 
30.  What  is  said  of  ancient  statues  ?  31.  What  aids  the  public 
speaker  ?  32.  What  adds  beauty  to  the  fagade  ?  33.  When  will 
the  expression  be  the  same  ?  34.  What  changes  the  expression 
of  the  face?  35.  What  is  said  of  anger?  36.  What  most  re- 
veals the  feelings  ?  37.  What  do  we  see  when  the  man  looks 
out  of  the  windows  ?  38.  What  unspoken  language  expresses 
character?  39.  Is  the  same  gesture  always  appropriate  ?  40. 
What  is  said  of  the  coloring  of  the  house?  41.  What  causes 
the  color  of  the  face  to  change?  42.  How  may  anger  affect  the 
face  ?  43.  What  should  color  be  ?  44.  What  does  Ruskin  say 
of  color?  45.  What  makes  the  best  complexion?  46.  What  is 
better  than  regular  features  ?  47.  Where  then  does  our  beauty 
lie?  48.  What  will  awaken  admiration  and  awe?  49.  How 
does  the  House  Beautiful  differ  from  these  cathedrals?  50  Who 
aids  us  to  remould  our  features? 


PART  II. 

QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  I. — PAGE  205. 

i.  What  is  now  the  condition  of  the  House  Beautiful?  2 
What  have  we  admired  ?  3.  What  is  peculiar  about  the  house  ? 
4.  Is  the  house  to  be  inhabited  ?  5.  What  is  peculiar  about  the 
tenant  ?  6.  What  will  you  learn  about  him  without  seeing  him  ? 
7.  Who  is  this  tenant?  8.  What  is  he?  9.  To  what  is  he  a 
stranger?  10.  Why  is  the  house  not  complete?  n.  Who 
are  untrained?  12.  Of  what  is  the  Master  incapable?  13. 
Does  he  look  out  of  the  windows?  14.  What  appears  to 
be  in  working  order?  Why?  15.  What  is  said  of  the 
human  baby?  16.  What  of  calves,  colts,  etc.?  17.  What  will 
the  baby  do  if  left  alone?  18.  Why?  19.  To  what  is  he  su- 
perior, and  why  ?  20.  Of  what  are  they  a  prophecy  ?  21.  What 
was  the  design  of  the  Architect?  22.  When  is  the  house  some- 
times vacated  ?  23.  What  apology  can  be  made  for  this  ?  24. 
What  advantage  has  man  over  brutes?  25.  What  could  he  pre- 
vent ?  26.  What  does  a  baby  need  first  ?  27.  Where  can  we 
find  a  model  garment  ?  Why  ?  28.  What  should  be  avoided  in 
a  baby's  dress  ?  29.  How  happy  will  a  baby  be  ?  30.  If  it  is 
unhappy  what  is  the  reason?  31.  What  is  personal  magnetism  ? 
32.  Who  feels  this  ?  How  do  we  know  this  ?  33.  What  is  said 
of  the  child's  electrical  condition  ?  34.  What  does  this  explain  ? 
35.  What  is  the  next  need  of  a  child  ?  36.  What  is  said  of  regu- 
lar habits  ?  37.  What  takes  place  in  sleep  ?  38.  What  should 
you  not  do  ?  39.  What  will  you  do  to  secure  quiet  sleep  for  a 
child?  40.  What  now  happens?  41.  What  is  the  inhabitant 
of  the  house  beginning  to  do  ?  42.  Of  what  is  he  unconscious  ? 
43.  How  are  his  voluntary  movements  made?  44.  Why  does  he 
keep  in  motion  ?  45.  What  is  the  baby's  business  ?  46.  What 
ought  he  to  have?  47.  What  will  he  first  learn?  48.  Then 
what  ?  49.  What  is  there  in  this  wriggling  thing  ?  50.  To  what 

(347) 


348 


AIDS  TO  TEACHERS  AND  SCHOLARS. 


does  it  impel  the  child?  51.  Then  what  happens  ?  52.  WhaJ 
is  said  of  walking?  53.  What  is  walking  called?  54.  Why  is 
running  more  difficult  than  walking?  55.  What  is  remarkable 
about  the  first  five  years  of  life  ?  56.  What  teaches  the  child  ? 
57.  What  does  the  rattle  teach?  58.  The  doll?  The  baby- 
jumper?  The  rocking-horse  ?  59.  The  swing?  The  skipping- 
rope  ?  Rolling  the  hoop  ?  60.  Playing  marbles  and  ball-play- 
ing? 61.  What  does  repeating  a  task  do?  62.  What  is  thr 
child  becoming  ?  63.  What  is  said  of  calisthenics  ? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  II. — PAGE  212. 

I.  What  does  the  Man  Wonderful  include?  2.  What  is  the 
girl  ?  3.  What  is  said  of  her  house  ?  4.  How  will  she  g  t  a 
strong  body  ?  5.  What  girl  has  not  been  well  educated  ?  6.  In 
what  are  girls  like  boys  ?  7.  Upon  what  do  girls  pride  them- 
selves ?  8.  Upon  what  do  boys  pride  themselves  ?  9.  What 
hands  are  the  most  beautiful  ?  10.  In  what  is  the  greater  part 
of  life  to  be  spent  ?  1 1.  What  can  be  taught  little  people  ?  12. 
How  can  the  mother  amuse  the  child?  13.  What  will  careful 
training  do  ?  14.  What  is  more  attractive  than  playing  keep 
house?  15.  What  can  a  girl  of  eight  years  do?  16.  What 
should  a  girl  of  fourteen  be  able  to  do  ?  17.  What  time  is  suffi- 
cient to  learn  this?  18.  Who  has  found  skilled  hands  of  use? 
19.  What  is  worth  more  than  money?  20.  What  have  girls  got? 
For  what  ?  21.  What  may  boys  and  girls  find  of  value  to  them  ? 
22.  What  is  said  ot  boys  and  girls  ?  23.  Who  gave  this  impulse 
for  activity  ?  24.  What  should  take  the  place  of  "  it  is  not  lady- 
like"? 25.  What  should  girls  think  of  ?  26.  For  what  should 
she  plan  ?  27.  What  is  fortunate  for  a  girl  ?  28.  What  employ- 
ments are  open  to  women  ?  29.  What  does  a  knowledge  of 
practical  work  do  ?  30.  Which  is  better,  to  know  how  to  make 
bread,  or  play  the  piano  ?  31.  For  what  should  she  have  an  am- 
feition  ?  32.  What  says  Solomon  ?  Proverbs  ? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  V.  349 

QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  III.— PAGE  219. 

I.  In  what  is  there  pleasure?  2.  Should  this  desire  be  culti- 
vated ?  3.  What  must  the  majority  of  people  do  all  their  lives  ? 
4.  What  would  be  a  valuable  addition  to  our  schools  ?  5.  Where 
have  such  schools  been  tried  ?  6.  How  could  they  be  arranged  ? 
7.  What  advantage  to  a  boy  would  these  schools  be?  8.  What 
would  he  learn?  9.  What  is  he  thus  becoming?  10.  What 
effect  would  these  schools  have  upon  laws?  II.  Upon  the  time 
spent  in  school  ?  1 2.  Why  might  girls  learn  the  use  of  tools  ? 
13.  Or  boys  cooking ?  14.  What  is  true  education?  15.  What 
does  it  develop  ?  16.  What  did  the  ancient  Greeks  believe  ?  17. 
What  is  the  effect  of  cultivating  the  mind  and  not  the  body  ?  18. 
Of  cultivating  the  body  and  not  the  mind  ?  19.  What  is  said  of 
college  students  ?  20.  Of  what  use  is  a  symmetrical  body  ?  21. 
Of  what  do  young  men  too  often  think?  22.  What  is  the  golden 
mean  in  education  ?  23.  What  is  the  result  of  separating  physi- 
cal and  mental  education  ?  24.  Why  is  there  now  no  need  of 
extreme  development  of  body  ?  25.  How  may  the  body  be  in- 
jured ?  26.  What  organ  suffers  in  a  rowing  contest  ?  27.  Why  ? 
28.  What  is  the  effect  of  the  exercise  on  the  heart  ?  29.  Is  this 
a  continued  growth?  30.  What  then  begins?  31.  What  does 
the  heart  become  ?  The  person  ?  32.  Will  he  be  conscious  of 
this  ?  33.  What  may  be  the  final  result  ?  34.  What  is  said  of 
military  drill?  35.  What  muscles  are  brought  into  play?  36. 
What  valuable  mental  result?  37.  What  mischievous  result 
avoided  ?  38.  What  need  may  arise  in  actual  life  ?  39.  What 
will  be  for  the  security  of  the  country  ? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  V. — PAGE  242. 
i.   What  foreigner  was  brought  to  England  and  France  two 
hundred  years  ago  ?  2.  What  is  he  familiarly  called  ?  3.  What 
do  his  friends  say  of  him  ?    4,   What  is  checking  waste  ?    5. 
What  is  the  testimony  of  science?    6.  What  is  the  chief  action 
of  coffee  ?    7.  What  does  it  do  ?    8.  Why  is  it  not  desirable  to 
23 


350  AIDS  TO  TEACHERS  AND  SCHOLARS. 

forget  that  we  are  tired  ?  9.  What  does  Dr.  Bartholow  say  o( 
coffee  ?  10.  What  does  Dr.  Emmet  say?  n.  What  effort  does 
he  think  should  be  made,  and  why?  12.  What  do  some  people 
think  ?  13.  What  does  Dr.  Bartholow  say  of  this  ?  14.  What  does 
that  mean?  15.  What  question  can  we  ask  ourselves?  16. 
How  can  we  be  without  coffee  ?  17.  Who  is  the  other  foreigner  i 
18.  What  is  his  name  ?  What  usually  called?  19.  What  is  his 
complexion?  20.  What  are  the  properties  of  tea?  21.  Which 
is  the  more  stimulating  ?  22.  What  effect  has  the  tannic  acid  of 
tea  ?  23.  Why  is  that  undesirable  ? — ANS.  Because  albumen  is 
an  important  food,  and  when  coagulated  can  not  be  absorbed, 
and  therefore  can  not  nourish  the  body.  24.  What  effect  has 
long  cooking  of  tea  ?  25.  What  is  the  result  of  living  on  bread 
and  tea  alone  ?  26.  How  can  disorders  caused  by  tea  be  cured  ? 
27.  What  is  a  good  rule  ?  28.  Why  is  water  a  better  drink  than 
tea?  29.  How  much  of  the  body  is  water?  30.  What  good 
do  tea  and  coffee  do?  31.  Who  can  not  drink  tea  and  coffee? 
32.  What  other  doubtful  visitors  are  mentioned  ?  33.  What  do 
they  irritate  ?  34.  What  is  the  effect  of  pepper  and  mustard  on 
the  epidermis  ?  35.  What  effect  on  mucous  membrane  ?  36.  What 
do  they  beget  ?  37.  What  would  you  say  of  such  articles  ? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  VI.— PAGE  250. 

i.  What  twin-brothers  guard  our  house  ?  2.  What  is  their 
character?  3.  "What  is  said  of  the  dislikes  of  taste?  4.  What 
if  the  master  becomes  attached  to  bad  friends  ?  5.  To  whom 
must  we  appeal,  and  for  what  ?  6.  How  must  we  educate  the 
master  ?  7.  Who  is  the  first  bad  guest  mentioned  ?  8.  Who 
met  him,  and  when  ?  9.  Who  met  him  in  1519,  and  where?  10. 
When  was  he  indispensable  to  the  Indians?  11.  When  intro- 
duced to  Europe,  and  how  received  ?  12.  To  what  queen  was  he 
presented?  13.  Who  has  the  credit  of  introducing  him  to  Eng 
land  ?  14.  Who  discovered  him  to  be  a  dangerous  friend  ?  15. 
Who  issued  a  bull  against  him  ?  16.  Where  was  he  prohibited  ? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  VII.  351 

17.  Who  made  laws  against  him  ?  18.  What  was  written  aboul 
him?  19.  What  did  Charles  Lamb  say  ?  20.  To  whom  does 
his  beauty  and  sweetness  introduce  him?  21.  What  is  said  oi 
his  family  ?  22.  Mention  some  of  his  kindred.  23.  What  are 
his  name  and  personal  appearance  ?  24.  What  is  his  conduct 
at  a*first  call  ?  25.  What  is  sometimes  emptied  by  this  uproar? 
26.  What  may  be  suspended  ?  27.  What  is  the  effect  of  admit- 
ting him  frequently  ?  28.  Who  are  engaged  in  throwing  him 
out  ?  29.  How  do  we  know  this  ?  30.  Who  assist  the  lungs  in 
getting  rid  of  him  ?  31.  He  is  a  foe  like  what  acid  ?  32.  What 
is  this  poison  called  ?  33.  How  much  will  it  take  to  kill  a  rabbit 
in  four  minutes?  34.  Whom  would  it  kill  in  five  minutes?  35. 
Who  masquerades  under  different  forms  ?  36.  What  character 
does  he  play  most  universally  ?  37.  What  does  he  tell  the  farmer 
or  cow-boy  ?  38.  What  does  he  do  while  thus  talking  ?  39. 
For  what  does  he  take  great  credit  ?  40.  How  did  he  appear 
among  the  Indians  ?  41.  What  is  said  of  the  pipe  ?  42.  Does  he 
ever  put  on  more  style  ?  Where  ?  43.  Where  is  he  equally  at 
home  ?  44.  Where  does  he  exert  the  same  baneful  influence  ? 
45.  What  does  he  do  to  the  tongue  ?  46.  What  to  the  red  cor- 
puscles? 47.  To  the  cook?  48.  To  the  salivary  glands?  49. 
What  has  been  traced  to  the  use  of  the  pipe  ?  50.  How  was  he 
carried  by  his  friends  ?  51.  What  was  his  character  then  and 
his  claims  ?  52.  Of  what  were  snuff-boxes  made  ?  53.  What 
was  an  annual  expense  of  the  United  States  Senate  ?  54.  Who 
had  charge  of  the  Government  snuff-box  ?  55.  What  is  the  effect 
of  snuff-taking  ?  56.  Who  suffers  next  ?  57.  Where  does  snufl 
rollect?  58.  What  is  said  of  the  snuff-taker? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  VII.— PAGE  257. 

i.  What  does  he  sometimes  style  himself?  And  takes  what 
profession  ?  2.  What  does  he  claim  to  preserve  ?  And  what 
cure?  3.  How  do  women  use  tobacco?  4.  When  is  he  most 
disgusting?  5.  What  people  employ  him  as  dentist?  How? 


352 


AIDS  TO   TEACHERS  AND  SCHOLARS, 


6.  What  does  he  do  to  the  teeth  and  gums?  7.  What  othei 
guests  does  he  introduce  into  the  house  ?  8.  How  does  he  treat 
the  cook  and  the  glands  ?  9.  How  does  he  affect  the  master  of 
the  house  ?  10.  What  does  he  claim  to  do  for  all  ?  n.  What 
sign  does  he  put  up  where  he  is  used  ?  12.  How  can  you  read 
this  sign?  13.  For  what  have  Americans  a  world-wide  reputa- 
tion? 14.  What  measure  of  public  safety  is  necessary?  15. 
What  assists  in  legislation  ?  16.  What  sometimes  adorns  homes 
and  pulpits?  17.  In  what  case  only  is  tobacco  useful?  18. 
What  next  does  he  claim  to  be  ?  19.  As  medical  assistant  what 
diseases  does  he  claim  to  cure  ?  20.  How  does  he  cure  disease  ? 
21.  What  effect  does  he  have  on  the  vigor  of  the  country  ?  22. 
Mention  some  of  the  diseases  he  creates.  23.  What  does  Dr. 
Richardson  say  ?  24.  What  leads  to  strong  drinks  ?  25.  How 
does  it  affect  the  heart  power?  26.  What  effect  does  it  have 
upon  the  eye  ?  27.  What  can  the  French  professor  do  ?  28. 
What  other  sense  does  tobacco  affect  ?  How  ?  29.  How  does 
it  affect  the  nerves  ?  What  nerves  ?  30.  How  does  it  affect  the 
glands?  31.  Whose  opinions  have  we  been  stating ?  32.  What 
says  Dr.  Lizars  ?  33.  What  observation  is  made  by  Professor 
Hinds  ?  34.  What  is  said  by  Professor  Bartholow  of  tobacco  as 
a  medicine? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  VIII. — PAGE  263. 

i.  What  is    the    next  character  tobacco   assumes?     2.  To 

whom  is  this  character  attractive  ?     3.  What  are  his  name  and 

appearance?     4.  What   question  would  you   be  apt  to  answer 

with  a  smile  ?     5.  Where  does  the  smoke  from  the  cigarette  go  ? 

6.  What  is  the  effect  of  blowing  the  smoke  through  the  nose? 

7.  Who  are  the  companions  of  the  cigarette  ?     8.  What  is  the 
first  effect  of  tobacco  ?     9.  What  would  be  its  effect  on  growing 
boys  ?     Why  ?     10.  What    foolish    thought    have    girls  some- 
times ?    11.  How  does  tobacco  treat  women  ?    12.  What  says  Dr. 
Bartholow  ?     13.  What  is  said  of  this  habit  and  its  effect  ?     14. 
What  is  its  effect  on  courage  ?     1 5.  What   is  the   report  frorr 
Paris?     1 6.  Whom  should  the  boys  shun  ? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPITER  X.  353 

QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  IX.— PAGE  266. 

i.  What  is  tobacco's  most  successful  character?  2.  What 
mire  does  he  assume?  3.  What  does  he  call  himself?  4.  How 
nas  the  dandy  blinded  the  eyes  of  girls  and  women  ?  5.  What 
does  smoking  promote?  6.  What  is  our  most  important  food? 
7.  Who  will  poison  this  food?  8.  How  does  the  father  treat  the 
child?  9.  What  says  Emerson?  10.  Whose  children  have 
weakened  constitutions?  n.  Who  suffers  for  the  sins  of  the 
tobacco-smoker?  12.  How  does  it  affect  the  children?  13. 
What  says  Dr.  Elam  ?  14.  What  is  tobacco  under  all  disguises  ? 
15.  In  what  does  he  fulfil  more  than  he  promises?  16.  For 
what  does  the  user  of  tobacco  spend  his  money?  17.  How 
much  will  a  smoker  spend  in  a  year?  18.  How  much  did  the 
New  York  merchant  save  in  thirty-nine  years?  19.  What  does 
Professor  Hinds  calculate  ?  20.  What  will  the  smoker  have  as 
his  reward?  21.  What  do  insurance  agents  say?  22.  What 
illustrations  are  given?  23.  What  is  tobacco  to  worthy  ambi- 
tions? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  X.— PAGE  270. 

i.  What  is  first  said  of  the  condition  of  the  earth  and  man  ? 
2.  What  did  Abou  Ben  Hassan  find  ?  3.  What  did  the  spirit 
say  ?  4.  What  did  he  promise  to  him  and  his  friends  ?  5.  What 
happened  when  the  spirit  was  liberated  ?  6.  Of  what  did  Ben 
Hassan  think  this  a  proof?  7.  What  effect  did  Gohul's  presence 
have  at  feasts  ?  8.  How  did  he  become  a  friend  to  the  sorrow- 
ful ?  9.  How  did  he  seem  to  affect  the  intellect  ?  10.  Why  was 
he  called  the  friend  of  the  warrior?  u.  Why  of  the  sick  ?  i!z. 
Who  employed  him  ?  13.  What  did  he  at  last  begin  to  call  him- 
self? 14.  What  did  he  say  that  he  did?  15.  What  was  the  ef- 
fect of  increased  confidence  in  Gohul  ?  16.  Who  had  never  been 
friends  with  Gohul?  17.  What  had  Observation  noticed  in  re- 
gard to  children  ?  18.  What  in  regard  to  women  ?  19.  What 
»n  regard  to  some  men  ?  20.  What  did  Observation  report  ?  21 


354 


AIDS  TO   TEACHERS  AND  SCHOLARS. 


What  effect  did  this  have  upon  Gohul  ?  22.  What  did  he  say  ol 
Observation  ?  23.  What  did  he  demand  ?  24.  Whom  did  he 
want  in  this  committee  of  investigation  ?  25.  Why  would  this 
not  be  just  ?  26.  What  was  agreed  upon  ?  27.  Of  whom  was 
the  committee  composed  ?  28.  What  occurred  ?  29.  What  re- 
port was  first  submitted?  30.  What  was  this  report?  31.  Wlrit 
was  the  other  report  ?  32.  What  did  she  first  say  ?  33.  Whom 
did  she  employ  as  an  assistant  ?  34.  Whom  did  she  find  Gohul 
to  be  ?  35.  Whose  offspring  is  he  ?  36.  What  is  fermenta 
tion  ?  37.  What  is  wine  ?  38.  How  are  different  wines  made 
and  flavored  ?  39.  What  increases  the  strength  of  wine  ?  40. 
What  makes  wine  injurious?  41.  Have  all  wines  alcohol  in 
them  ?  42.  How  has  alcohol  deceived  man  ?  43.  Has  he  been 
a  friend  to  the  sick  ?  Why  not  ?  44.  What  did  science  call 
Gohul  ?  45.  What  did  Gohul  say  to  the  report  of  Science  ?  46. 
What  question  did  he  ask  ?  47.  How  did  he  answer  this  ques- 
tion ?  48.  What  became  of  her  report  ? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XI.— PAGE  279. 

i.  What  picture  of  peace  is  here  presented  ?  2.  Who  saw 
this,  and  what  did  he  say  ?  3.  What  did  he  do  ?  4.  What  did 
men  do  ?  5.  What  did  they  imagine  they  had  obtained  ?  6. 
How  did  this  affect  Gohul  ?  7.  What  new  name  did  he  adopt  ? 
8.  Was  he  an  acquaintance  of  Gohul  ?  9.  What  comparison  did 
he  make  between  himself  and  Gohul?  10.  What  was  now  his 
personal  appearance  ?  n.  How  did  he  act  ?  12.  Whom  did  he 
love?  13.  What  said  he  to  men?  14.  What  was  the  effect  of 
these  fine  speeches?  15.  What  did  even  wise  men  say?  16. 
What  strange  disease  was  caused  by  wine  ?  Wi7.  hat  did  they 
think  of  beer  ?  18.  For  what  did  they  think  beer  a  cure  ?  19. 
What  did  Observation  notice  ?  20.  What  did  he  do  ?  21.  What 
did  men  say?  22.  What  did  they  do  ?  23.  Who  made  up  this 
committee  ?  24.  How  did  this  committee  agree  ?  25.  WhaJ 
was  the  first  report  ?  26.  What  was  said  in  favor  of  beer  ?  27 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XI L  355 

Who  signed  this  report  ?  28.  What  was  the  other  report  ?  29 
What  did  this  branch  of  the  committee  find  ?  30.  Whom  had 
they  consulted?  31.  What  did  Chemistry  explain?  32.  De- 
scribe the  process  of  beer-making.  33.  What  is  the  first  step  in 
making  beer  ?  What  takes  place  ?  34.  The  second  step  ?  What 
does  this  do  ?  35.  The  third  step  ?  36.  The  fourth  step  ?  37. 
What  is  this  process?  38.  What  takes  place?  39.  Why  are 
hops  added  ?  40.  When  is  beer  barrelled  or  bottled  ?  41.  What 
are  ale,  porter,  and  stout  ?  42.  What  increases  the  evils  of  these 
drinks  ?  43.  What  does  Chemistry  find  in  beer  ?  44.  What  is 
said  of  cocculus  indicus  ?  What  symptoms  arise  from  it  ?  45. 
How  else  is  beer  sometimes  poisoned  ?  46.  How  is  the  habitual 
beer-drinker  known  ?  47.  What  else  is  said  of  him  ?  48.  How 
does  alcohol  affect  the  nerves  which  govern  the  size  of  capil- 
laries ?  49.  What  do  the  immense  quantities  of  beer  do  ?  50. 
What  results  from  these  two  things?  51.  What  other  result ? 
52.  What  does  a  natural  liver  weigh  ?  53.  What  may  a  beer- 
drinker's  liver  weigh  ?  54.  What  is  said  of  beer-drinking  na- 
tions ?  55.  Why  are  their  faces  ruddy  ?— ANS.  Because  of  the 
paralysis  of  the  capillary  nerves,  and  from  the  excess  of  water  in 
the  blood.  56.  What  has  been  done  instead  of  gaining  strength  ? 
57.  How  can  you  prove  that  this  is  waste  matter  and  not 
strength  ?  58.  What  is  said  by  physicians  in  Europe  and  Amer- 
ica ?  59.  Why  do  they  dread  to  perform  surgical  operations  on 
beer-drinkers?  60.  What  about  abstainers?  61.  What  is  the 
unqualified  testimony?  62.  What  does  one  English  doctor  say? 
63.  Of  1,540  cases  of  gout  how  many  were  abstainers?  64. 
What  else  about  him  ?  65.  What  does  the  great  German  chem- 
ist Liebig  say  ?  66.  What  is  finally  said  of  the  beer-drinker  ? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XII.— PAGE  287. 

I.  What  resulted  from  Gohul's  great  strength?  2.  What 
effect  did  this  have  on  men  ?  3.  What  desire  arose  ?  4.  What 
was  Gohul  in  his  new  guise  called  ?  5.  What  was  now  believed 


356          AIDS  TO  TEACHERS  AND  SCHOLARS. 

of  him  ?  6.  Did  all  believe  this  ?  7.  Who  were  his  friends  ? 
8.  How  did  many  prove  their  friendship  ?  9.  What  did  thesr 
organizations  do?  10.  What  came  through  the  influence  ol 
Gohul?  ii.  How  did  this  affect  Gohul?  12.  What  had  he 
done?  13.  What  had  he  stolen?  14.  What  dimmed?  What 
enfeebled?  15.  What  else  had  he  stolen?  What  deepened? 
16.  What  had  he  done  to  the  nose?  17.  What  had  he  done  to 
the  joints?  18.  How  had  he  truly  affected  the  mind?  The 
tongue?  19.  How  had  he  affected  the  mind,  heart,  and  temper? 
20.  What  had  he  done  to  the  young?  The  middle-aged ?  21. 
What  had  he  brought  to  all  ?  22.  Did  this  open  the  eyes  of  all  ? 
23.  What  was  the  greatest  harm  he  had  done  to  men?  24. 
What  was  his  greatest  source  of  power?  25.  What  did  men 
call  him  ?  26.  What  had  Observation  been  doing  meanwhile  ? 
27.  What  did  he  say  ?  28.  What  had  Gohul  stolen  ?  29.  Who 
denied  these  assertions?  In  what  word's?  30.  How  did  they 
try  to  prove  that  Gohul  was  not  bad  ?  31.  What  now  occurred  ? 
32.  What  did  Gohul's  opponents  demand?  33.  What  answer 
was  made  by  his  friends?  34.  What  did  the  people  ask ?  35. 
Was  their  request  granted?  36.  What  did  the  people  say? 
What  is  the  meaning  of  "  Vox  populi,  vox  Dei" ? — -ANS.  The 
voice  of  the  people  is  the  voice  of  God.  37.  How  is  the  Gov- 
ernment formed  ?  38.  What  does  Chemistry  tell  us  ?  39.  What 
is  distillation  called  ?  Is  this  true  ?  40.  From  what  is  whisky 
distilled?  41.  From  what  is  rum  distilled?  42.  From  what  is 
brandy  distilled  ?  43.  What  does  Chemistry  show  ?  44.  What 
cry  does  Science  echo  ?  45.  Where  and  how  does  he  begin  his 
theft  ?  46.  What  cry  does  he  set  up  ?  47.  Where  does  he  get 
water  ?  48.  What  does  he  produce  in  the  stomach  ?  49.  Whei  e 
does  he  go  from  the  stomach  ?  50.  What  does  the  liver  think  of 
him?  And  what  does  it  do?  51.  What  effect  does  this  effort 
have  on  the  liver  ?  52.  What  is  cirrhosis  ?  53.  What  is  said  of 
albumen  ?  54.  What  effect  has  alcohol  on  albumen  ?  55.  What 
on  the  red  corpuscles  of  the  blood  ?  56.  Where  else  does  alco- 
hol go,  and  with  what  effect?  57.  How  does  alcohol  affect  the 
heart  ?  58.  How  many  times  does  the  heart  naturally  beat  in 
twenty-four  hours?  59.  How  many  ounces  of  blood  raised  at 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XIII.  357 

each  stroke?  60.  How  many  ounces  in  a  day?  How  many 
tons  is  that  ?  61.  To  what  is  the  daily  work  of  the  heart  equal  ? 
62.  What  surprising  statement  is  made  ?  63.  What  does  alco- 
hol cause  the  heart  to  do  ?  64.  What  will  be  the  effect  of  one 
fluid  oimce  a  day  ?  65.  Of  eight  ounces  ?  66.  What  is  often 
said  of  taking  two  ounces  of  alcohol  daily?  67.  In  what  would 
one  drink  two  ounces  of  alcohol  ?  68.  Why  is  the  heart  in  such 
a  hurry  ?  69.  What  does  the  heart  do  at  every  beat  ?  70.  Why 
does  the  blood  receive  a  check  in  the  capillaries?  71.  What 
does  alcohol  do  to  the  capillaries,  and  how  ?  72.  What  is  the 
result  ?  73.  What  is  the  testimony  of  medicine  ?  74.  What  is 
preferable  to  alcohol  as  a  tonic?  75.  What  do  physicians  ac- 
knowledge ?  76.  Who  especially  believed  these  teachings  ?  77. 
What  did  they  do  ?  78.  What  resulted  ?  79.  What  did  the  rulers 
ask  ?  80.  What  did  the  people  reply  ? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XIII.— PAGE  294. 

i.  What  does  Gohul  say?  2.  What  feeling  was  aroused  by 
these  ?  3.  What  was  done  ?  4.  Of  whom  did  the  committee 
consist?  5.  Whom  did  they  examine  ?  6.  What  per  cent,  of 
alcohol  in  whisky?  In  brandy?  In  wine?  7.  What  per  cent, 
in  beer  ?  Are  ale  and  porter  stronger  than  beer  ?  8.  Which  of 
them  are  harmful?  9.  Of  what  is  alcohol  a  product?  10. 
Where  does  it  originate?  n.  What  is  needed  for  its  produc- 
tion? 12.  What  does  fermentation  do  to  grains?  13.  What 
are  the  legitimate  uses  of  alcohol?  14.  When  is  it  injurious  to 
man?  15.  Who  desires  other  drinks  than  water?  16.  What 
fluid  quenches  thirst?  17.  What  is  abnormal ?  18.  Is  alcohol 
a  food?  19.  What  then  is  it?  20.  What  kind  of  a  poison? 
21,  What  is  the  effect  of  small  doses?  22.  How  does  it  work? 
23.  How  long  may  its  evil  effects  remain  unrecognized?  24. 
What  organs  are  engorged  with  blood  by  its  use?  Why?  25. 
Time  effects  what  changes?  26.  What  effect  does  alcohol  have 
on  the  red  corpuscles?  27.  What  on  the  membranes  of  the 


358  AIDS  T0   TEACHERS  AND  SCHOLARS. 

lungs  ?  28.  What  results  from  this  ?  29.  What  is  said  of  mem- 
branes ?  30.  What  are  most  of  these  membranes?  31.  What 
effect  does  alcohol  have  on  these  membranes  ?  32  Upon  what 
does  the  growth  of  the  body  depend  ?  33.  How  may  dropsy  be 
caused  by  alcohol?  34.  What  causes  a  feeling  of  wam:th  ?  35. 
What  effect  does  this  have  on  internal  organs?  36.  What 
rhanges  in  temperature  during  intoxication?  37.  How  long 
does  it  take  to  recover  from  this  loss  of  heat  ?  38.  When  is  a 
chilly  feeling  experienced  ?  39.  How  does  alcohol  check  waste  ? 
40.  What  does  this  do  to  the  system?  41.  What  effect  has 
hardening  the  membranes  ?  42.  How  does  this  affect  the  body  ? 
4.3.  What  is  the  peculiarity  of  vital  processes?  44.  What  com- 
parison is  used  in  regard  to  checking  waste  ?  45.  Why  is  alco- 
hol not  a  food  ?  46.  Does  it  seem  to  increase  digestion  ?  47. 
How  does  it  affect  the  nerves  ?  48.  What  is  lost  ?  With  what 
result?  49.  Why  may  men  under  the  influence  of  alcohol  be 
frozen?  50.  How  does  it  affect  the  brain?  51.  How  many 
diseases  mentioned  in  the  list  caused  by  alcohol?  52.  Whom 
has  science  questioned?  53.  How  does  alcohol  affect  man's 
physical  powers  ?  54.  How  has  the  rheumatism  of  drunkards 
been  cured?  55.  What  is  said  of  cholera  and  alcohol?  56. 
Alcohol  and  surgical  operations?  57.  What  is  said  of  those 
who  do  not  use  alcohol  ?  58.  What  of  sunstroke  and  alcohol  ? 
59.  What  is  said  of  the  water-drinker  ?  60.  Whom  next  does 
science  question  ?  61.  What  do  children  inherit  ?  What  is  the 
meaning  of  inherit  ?  62.  What  effect  does  alcohol  have  upon 
the  children  of  those  who  use  it?  63.  What  diseases  may  chil- 
dren inherit  from  drinking  parents  ?  64.  Whom  next  does 
science  question  ?  What  does  alcohol  ?  65.  What  does  the 
production  of  alcohol  destroy?  66.  What  kind  of  a  business  is 
it  ?  67.  What  amount  yearly  is  spent  for  alcohol  ?  68.  What 
effect  does  this  expenditure  have  upon  families  ?  69.  How  do 
drinkers  lose  time?  70.  How  does  alcohol  shorten  life ?  71. 
How  does  alcohol  cost  the  country  large  sums  of  money?  72. 
How  many  drunkards  die  every  year  ?  73.  What  number  does 
alcohol  send  yearly  to  prison  ?  74.  How  many  children  to  the 
ooorhouse  ?  75.  Whit  causes  murders?  And  suicides?  76 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XIV  359 

How  many  orphans  left  to  charity  annually  ?  77.  What  amount 
is  spent  yearly  to  support  paupers  ?  78.  Whom  does  science 
next  question  ?  79.  What  perverts  the  moral  sense  ?  80. 
What  destroys  conscience  ?  81.  What  effect  has  alcohol  on  the 
reason  and  judgment?  82.  What  does  it  cause?  83.  What 
causes  shipwreck  ?  84.  How  does  alcohol  affect  the  gentleman  ? 
85.  What  is  the  statement  of  the  grand  jury?  86.  What  is  the 
effect  upon  those  who  sell  liquor?  87.  What  upon  women  and 
children  ?  Would  you  like  to  live  where  no  alcohol  is  sold  ? 
88.  What  is  said  of  a  city  where  no  alcohol  is  sold  ?  89.  What 
is  said  of  using  fermented  wine  at  the  sacrament  ?  90.  What 
kind  of  wine  should  be  used  at  the  sacrament  ? — ANS.  Un fer- 
mented. How  should  we  vote  on  this  subject  ? 


QUESTIONS  ON  CHAPTER  XIV.— PAGE  308. 

I.  What  would  be  the  result  if  company  were  never  entertained 
in  the  house  ?  2.  What  do  we  need  to  keep  us  in  repair  ?  3. 
Who  is  the  first  guest  invited  to  the  house  ?  4.  What  come  in  with 
milk?  5.  Who  are  the  Albuminoids?  What  do  they  form  ?  6. 
Where  are  they  found  ?  7.  What  are  they  called  in  the  blood  ? 
In  wheat  ?  In  milk  ?  8.  What  kind  of  a  food  is  milk  ?  9.  Of 
what  is  solid  food  made  up?  10.  Who  is  the  next  guest?  II. 
What  proportion  of  the  body  is  water  ?  12.  What  of  the  bones  ? 
The  brain  ?  13.  What  does  this  prove  ?  14.  How  much  water 
do  we  need  in  a  day?  15.  Where  do  we  get  it ?  16.  What 
proportion  of  beef  is  water?  Of  turnips?  Parsnips?  17.  What 
are  fruits  ?  18.  What  else  do  they  contain  besides  water  ?  19. 
What  work  do  the  acids  of  fruits  do  in  the  system  ?  20.  Why 
are  fruits  good  company  ?  And  for  whom  ?  21.  What  causes 
rickets  ?  22.  What  say  the  Germans  of  phosphorus  ?  23.  What 
does  the  Man  Wonderful  ask  ?  24.  What  has  he  learned  ?  25. 
What  neighbors  has  man  ?  What  do  they  do  for  him  ?  26. 
What  does  he  do  for  them  ?  27.  Who  are  these  neighbors  ?  28. 
What  do  plants  do  ?  29.  What  are  inorganic  materials  ?  30. 


360  AIDS  TO   TEACHERS  AND  SCHOLARS. 

What  are  organic  substances?  31.  What  are  plants  and  ani- 
mals? 32.  How  do  they  differ  ?  33.  What  is  phosphorus,  and 
where  found?  34.  For  whom  are  grains  good  food?  35.  Why 
do  grains  need  long  cooking  ?  36.  What  foods  are  not  suitable  for 
infants  ?  Why  ?  37.  Why  have  infants  no  saliva  ?  38.  Why  do  rice 
and  tapioca  need  saliva  ?  39.  What  is  starch  called  ?  40.  What 
guests  are  welcomed  by  children  ?  41.  Where  do  we  find  sugar  ? 
42.  From  what  is  it  made  ?  43.  What  foods  come  next  ?  44. 
Where  can  we  obtain  fats  ?  45.  How  are  starch  and  fat  used  ? 
46.  What  may  they  be  called  ?  47.  What  may  other  substances 
be  called  ?  48.  To  what  should  our  food  be  suited  ?  49.  Should 
the  child  or  adult  eat  most  meat  ?  50.  Which  should  eat  the 
larger  quantity,  the  laborer  or  the  lawyer  ?  51.  What  is  said  of 
the  farmer's  boy  who  becomes  a  student?  52.  What  question 
deserves  our  attention  ?  53.  What  rewards  a  wise  choice  ? 


A/T? 

OF   THK 

UNIVERSITY 


HOLY  FAMILY.    (COKKEGGIO.) 


PART    III. 

THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 


CHAPTER     I. 

INTRODUCTION. 

THE  study  of  physiology,  by  the  people,  was 
considered  injurious  by  numbers  of  the  medical 
profession  only  a  few  years  ago  ;  and  even  now, 
by  some,  it  is  considered  very  indelicate.  Public 
opinion,  however,  is  changing  very  rapidly,  and 
nearly  every  State  in  the  Union  has  passed  laws 
requiring  physiology  to  be  taught  in  our  public 
schools,  and  a  knowledge  of  the  functions  of  the 
human  body,  in  part,  at  least,  is  considered  essen- 
tial to  a  complete  education.  But  one  very  im- 
portant set  of  organs  and  their  functions  has  been 
neglected  and  wholly  ignored  in  our  text-books. 
In  the  study  of  botany  the  reproductive  system  is 
taught  with  minuteness  and  without  reserve,  but 
physiology  is  taught  without  giving  the  slightest 
intimation  that  the  human  being  has  a  reproduc- 
tive system.  So  great  has  been  the  reticence  on 
this  subject,  that  no  doubt  the  great  majority  of 
persons  now  in  adult  life  have  obtained  their  in- 
formation of  the  genetic  nature  from  secret  and 

(361) 


362 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 


often  impure  sources,  or  through  their  own  experi- 
ence, an  experience  which  has  too  often  resulted 
in  physical  or  moral  disorders. 

Scientists,  parents,  and  educators  now  begin  to 
see  that  the  child  must  be  openly  taught  the  truth 
concerning  the  reproductive  system.  The  child 
has  a  right,  in  truth,  to  claim  this  knowledge  from 
those  whose  attainments  and  experience  best  en- 
title them  to  be  teachers  upon  this  subject.  Pro- 
fessor B.  G.  Wilder,  M.  D.,  of  Cornell  University, 
in  writing  on  this  subject,  says  :  "  So  grave  are  the 
errors  of  ignorance  in  the  married  relation  that 
in  my  opinion  to  encourage,  or  even  allow,  young 
people  to  marry  without  having  received  such  in- 
struction, is  as*  foolish  and  wicked  as  to  place  in 
the  hands  of  a  child  a  loaded  pistol  or  a  paper  of 
poison,  for  no  other  reason  than  that  it  wanted 
them,  and  had  reached  a  certain  age,  and  yet  to 
offer  no  word  of  advice  or  warning  respecting  the 
danger  of  their  employment." 

We  could  hardly  hope  to  quote  from  higher 
authority  than  Dr.  Wilder,  though  many  others 
might  be  quoted.  But  how  are  "  our  young  peo- 
ple" to  know  that  of  which  the  Professor  finds 
them  ignorant,  if  they  are  not  taught  in  their  child- 
hood ?  We  prepare  our  children  for  the  trades 
and  professions  by  special  training  ;  why  should 
we  neglect  to  give  them  competent  knowledge 
of  their  genetic  nature,  which  has  such  a  lasting 
influence  on  their  physical,  mental,  and  moral 
natures  ?  The  pretended  modesty,  the  mock  mod- 


SACREDNESS  OF  THE  BODY.  363 

esty,  which  says,  "Leave  them  to  learn  from 
the  voice  of  nature,"  belongs  to  the  ignorant  past, 
and  since  we  cannot  keep  them  from  knowing, 
there  is  left  us  no  choice  in  the  matter.  We  are 
to  decide  whether  the  child  shall  receive  right 
and  pure  instruction  from  parents  and  teachers,  or 
wrong  and  impure  instruction  from  chance  associ- 
ates. The  sacredness  of  the  body  should  be  taught 
early,  and  as  soon  as  the  child  begins  to  ask  ques- 
tions, the  parent  or  teacher  should  answer  truth- 
fully in  regard  to  the  origin  of  life. 

It  is  through  ignorance  on  this  very  important 
subject  that  too  often  the  young  are  entrapped  to 
their  ruin.  This  is  certainly  a  significant  result  of 
our  false  modesty,  and  a  lamentable  instance  of 
propriety  over-reaching  itself.  We  strive  to  throw 
a  decent  veil  over  everything  concerned  with  the 
reproductive  functions,  and  this  has  served  useful 
ends ;  but  this  secrecy,  this  conspiracy  against 
science,  has  carried  us  too  far,  and  is  now  doing 
great  harm  to  those  whom  we  are  most  anxious  to 
benefit.  Parents  and  teachers  act  too  much  as  if 
"  innocence  in  such  matters  could  last  for  life,  and 
as  if  knowledge  were  a  crime."  Writers  generally 
speak  of  this  knowledge  as  dangerous,  while  as  a 
matter  of  fact  it  is  the  clandestine  manner  in 
which  it  is  obtained,  and  the  bad  odor  that  is 
thus  stamped  upon  the  knowledge,  that  render 
it  demoralizing.  Surround  the  subject  with  purity 
of  thought,  expressed  in  words  of  simplicity,  and 
at  the  same  time  awaken  in  the  child  an  admiration 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

for  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  the  Creator,  in 
making  such  provision,  and  there  will  be  such  a 
sacredness  in  the  subject  that,  instead  of  demoral- 
izing, there  will  remain  an  elevating  and  refining 
influence.  In  this  manner  we  would  remove  the 
unwholesome  fascination  which  the  present  habit 
of  secrecy  imparts  to  the  subject. 

Many  have  suggested  that  the  family  physician 
should  act  in  the  place  of  the  parent,  and  give 
proper  instruction  on  this  subject ;  but  this  would 
be  agreeable  neither  to  the  children  nor  the  physi- 
cian. We  must  then  of  necessity  turn  to  parents 
and  teachers,  with  the  hope  that  this  very  delicate 
duty  will  be  faithfully  performed.  That  it  is  ex- 
tremely difficult  to  clothe  the  ideas  of  this  subject 
in  language  that  is  at  once  simple  and  truthfully 
scientific,  all  must  admit ;  and  for  this  reason  our 
sympathies  go  with  the  parents  and  teachers,  upon 
whom  this  heavy  burden  is  laid. 

It  seems  to  be  generally  agreed,  among  writers 
on  this  subject,  that  at  puberty,  "at  the  most 
emotional  and  plastic  period  of  life,  when  new 
instincts  are  welling  up  and  causing  great  mental 
disquietude,  when  external  signs  and  new  sensa- 
tions indicate  that  the  sexual  instinct  is  beginning 
to  awaken,  parents  should  convey  knowledge  upon 
these  subjects." 

The  Author  would  say  most  emphatically,  and 
without  a  moment's  hesitation,  that  this  is  waiting 
too  long.  The  stealthy  approaches  of  vice  have 
been  favored  by  such  a  delay.  Do  not,  we  beseech 


DANGER  FROM  HALF  KNOWLEDGE. 


365 


you,  allow  your  boys  and  girls  to  remain  in  igno- 
rance on  this  most  vital  subject  until  nature  herself 
instinctively  tries  to  give  light  to  those  groping  in 
darkness,  or  they  themselves  seek  the  information 
from  some  unhallowed  source. 

There  maybe  more  danger  from  half  knowledge 
than  from  either  total  ignorance  or  the  fullest 
knowledge,  therefore  educate  early  and  thoroughly. 
Sexual  knowledge  is  so  far  removed  from  wrong 
that  it  is  right,  and  we  should  not  wait  until  the 
child  has  so  fully  developed  that  instruction  on  this 
subject  will  stimulate,  even  for  a  moment,  the  ap- 
petite or  passion  under  consideration. 

If  children  are  scientifically  instructed  as  soon 
as  curiosity  is  awakened  on  the  subject,  there  will 
be  no  chance  for  inflaming  their  imagination.  They 
will  accept  all  as  a  common  matter,  and  be  better 
prepared  to  meet  the  disturbing  changes  of  puberty. 

The  most  earnest  desire  is  to  promote  social 
purity  by  imparting  scientific  knowledge,  hallowed 
by  a  firm  belief  in  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  our 
Creator,  and  to  keep  the  pupils'  thoughts  directed 
to  the  highest  ideals  of  manhood  and  womanhood, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  to  impress  them  with  the 
responsibility  that  rests  upon  all  because  of  the 
genesis  of  life. 

With  the  hope  of  awakening  a  deep  interest  in 
the  subject  taught,  and  at  the  same  time  avoiding 
everything  that  could  in  any  way  stimulate  the  ap- 
petite under  consideration,  the  Author  has  pre- 
pared "The  Holy  of  Holies." 


CHAPTER     II. 

THE   BOWER. 

THE  day's  work  having  been  completed,  I  saun- 
tered out,  as  was  my  habit,  along  South  Hill  to 
meet  the  refreshing  breeze  which  generally  attends 
the  setting  sun,  and  to  get,  by  the  exercise  of  walk- 
ing, some  repose  for  my  wearied  nervous  system. 
I  had  hardly  reached  the  open  fields  when  I  saw 
Clarence  and  Julia  coming  to  meet  me,  hand  in 
hand,  and  smiling  as  though  they  expected  some 
pleasure.  Clarence  and  Julia,  neighbors'  children, 
are  my  little  friends  whom  I  often  see  on  the  streets. 
We  have  met  very  often  in  the  fields  and  in  the 
grove  on  South  Hill,  that  overlooks  the  city.  Some- 
times we  gather  flowers  together,  or  in  the  season 
gather  chestnut  burs,  and  pound  out  the  nuts. 
Slow  process  and  hard  work,  it  may  be,  but  it 
keeps  us  interested  in  the  same  work  for  a  time, 
and  thus  we  get  acquainted. 

"  Good  day,  Doctor,"  said  Clarence,  "  we  have 
come  to  meet  you,  and  to  invite  you  to  come  to 
our  bower." 

"Good  day,  my  little  friends,"  I  replied,  and  tak- 
ing a  hand  of  each,  we  walked  toward  their  bower. 
(366) 


PLAY  KEEP  HOUSE. 


367 


"  So  you  have  made  a  sylvan  bower,  have  you, 
where  you  can  enjoy  each  other's  company  ? " 

"Yes,"  said  Julia,  "  Clarence  has  made  me  a 
lovely  bower,  and  there  we  play  keep  house.  He 
plays  father,  and  I  play  mother,  and  we  have  real 
nice  times.  Did  you  ever  play  keep  house,  when 
you  were  little  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed,  I  was  a  great  hand  to  play  keep 
house  ;  and  after  I  helped  to  build  the  bowery 
home,  the  girls  kept  the  house  while  I  kept  a  large 
stable  filled  with  numerous  fine  horses,  and  I  very 
often  took  the  whole  family  out  horse-back  riding- 
But  most  of  the  time,  I  was  kept  busy  breaking  in 
colts  and  wild  horses,  for  I  was  a  famous  horseman 
in  those  days,  and  captured  many  wild  horses." 

"O  Julia,"  said  Clarence,  "we  must  have  some 
horses.  I  think  a  span  of  bays  or  blacks  would  be 
what  we  need  for  our  family,  and  then  I  think  I 
must  keep  one  race-horse  for  hunting  wild  animals. 
But,  Doctor,  how  did  you  capture  your  wild  horses, 
in  your  day  ?  " 

"  You  have  read,  no  doubt,  of  the  wild  horses  of 
the  far  West  being  captured  by  the  lasso  ?  Well, 
I  practiced  the  same  method.  You  must  work  a 
little  lead,  or  something  heavy,  into  one  end  of 
your  twine  string,  so  that  you  will  be  able  to 
throw  it  some  distance  from  you,  then  having 
made  it  fast,  you  need  a  good  jackknife  to  cut  off 
the  whips  at  the  bottom.  My  tamest  horses  I  got 
out  of  apple-trees,  but  my  wildest  ones  from  the 


368  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

body  of  a  hickory-tree,  that  I  cut  loose  with  a 
hatchet.  These  hickory  horses  required  much  se- 
vere training,  and  they  are  never  safe  for  the 
women  to  ride." 

By  this  time  we  had  almost  reached  the  bower, 
and  Julia,  not  being  so  deeply  interested  in  the 
wild  hickory  horses,  had  gently  withdrawn  her 
hand  from  mine,  and  tripped  quickly  to  the  bower, 
and  was  there  to  welcome  us,  as  her  guests  ;  and 
she  did  it  with  an  ease  and  a  grace  that  will  hardly 
be  hers  when  she  arrives  at  womanhood,  unless  she 
enjoys  better  training  and  has  more  experience, 
than  most  of  our  young  ladies  of  to-day. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Doctor,"  she  began,  offering 
me  her  little  dimpled  hand,  and  making  quite  a 
genteel  bow,  at  the  same  time  motioning  me  to  a 
seat.  "  I  hope  you  will  find  that  an  easy  seat." 

The  little  bower  was  in  the  corner  of  the  fence, 
or,  rather,  where  two  fences  met,  and  consisted  of 
one  long  rail  reaching  from  fence  to  fence,  and 
from  this  rail  to  the  fence  a  few  pieces  of  boards 
upon  which  were  spread  boughs  of  evergreen,  which 
the  little  couple  had  carried  from  the  grove  many 
rods  away,  where  some  farmer  had  felled  a  tree. 

"Ah,  Master  Clarence,  is  this  the  seat,"  I  asked, 
"which  you  have  prepared  for  me?  and  do  you 
think  it  is  strong  enough  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Doctor  ;  we  talked  of  having  a  visit  from 
you  when  we  were  making  that  seat,"  said  Clarence. 
"  I  was  afraid,  however,  that  this  nail  would  inter- 


THE    TABLE. 


369 


fere  with  the  usefulness  of  the  seat,  but  I  could  not 
drive  him  down." 

"  You  were  quite  right,"  I  replied,  "  in  fearing 
that  he  might  destroy  the  usefulness  of  the  seat. 
He  really  appears  to  be  an  impudent  fellow,  thrust- 
ing his  head  up  in  such  a  bold  manner.  I  am 
fearful  that  he  would  carry  on  clandestine  commu- 
nications with  my  pants  if  he  were  allowed  to 
have  his  own  way  ;  and  if  you  will  hand  me  your 
hammer,  I  will  invite  him  to  subside.  There,  now 
how  will  he  do,  after  those  two  whacks  on  his 
head  ?  I  think  he  will  be  less  obtrusive  and  more 
useful." 

"  That  is  what  I  tried  to  give  him,"  said  Clar- 
ence ;  "but  it  seemed  as  if  the  hammer  wanted 
more  weight  on  the  other  end  of  the  handle." 

The  board,  ten  inches  in  width,  which  answered 
for  a  table,  was  covered  with  a  piece  of  clean 
newspaper,  and  a  small  fruit  dish,  with  only  a  little 
piece  out  of  one  side,  served  as  a  plate  for  the 
guest,  while  a  broken  saucer  sat  in  front  of  the 
hostess  ;  and  Clarence  had  a  broken  plate  that, 
here  and  there,  where  the  original  rim  of  the  plate 
remained,  showed  golden  colors,  as  if  to  indicate 
its  once  superior  claims  to  consideration.  A  few 
colored  autumnal  leaves  were  placed  close  together 
with  their  stems  outward,  and  this  constituted  the 
central  dish,  on  which  were  a  few  crackers,  and 
near  it  were  some  apples.  Fortunately,  I  had  an 
grange  and  thres  sticks  of  candy  in  my  pocket, 


370 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 


and  this  enabled  me  to  add  my  share  to  the  repast. 

"  Here  is  something-,"  said  I,  at  the  same  time 
taking  the  orange  and  candy  from  my  pocket, 
"which  will  add  to  our  feast." 

"Certainly,"  said  Clarence,  "that  is  just  what 
we  need  to  complete  our  dinner;"  and  his  eyes 
sparkled  with  anticipated  pleasure.  I  handed  the 
candy  to  Julia,  and  she  broke  each  stick  in  two, 
and  made  a  plate  for  it  out  of  leaves. 

"This  orange  can  be  made  to  have  a  plate  of  its 
own  ;  for  by  cutting  it  thus,"  I  said,  "  the  rind  will 
fall  back  and  form  a  plate,  and  the  subdivisions  of 
the  orange  will  easily  separate  like  that,  and  make 
a  suitable  central  dish." 

"Do  you  not  think,  Doctor,"  said  Clarence,  while 
we  were  partaking  of  our  bowery  repast,  "  that 
Adam  and  Eve  lived  altogether  on  fruit  when  they 
were  in  the  garden  of  Eden  ?  " 

"Yes,  quite  likely  they  did,"  I  replied,  "and  so 
you  have  been  reading  about  Adam  and  Eve,  have 
you  ? " 

"  O,  he  is  a  great  reader,"  broke  in  Julia,  as  if 
she  were  proud  of  his  accomplishments,  "and  he 
has  read  very  many  books,  and  he  has  read  '  The 
Man  Wonderful  in  the  House  Beautiful, 'too,  for  he 
has  told  me  much  about  it.  I  wish  that  you  could 
tell  it  all  to  us." 

"  I  am  afraid  that  I  would  not  succeed  very  well 
talking  about  '  The  Man  Wonderful.'  But  did  you 
really  read  all  of  the  book,  Clarence?" 


THE  PARLOR. 


371 


"  Yes,  sir,  I  read  all  of  it,  and  more  too,  for  I  read 
some  of  the  letters  which  have  been  written  by 
those  who  have  read  the  book,  and  I  should  think 
you  would  be  quite  pleased  to  have  scholars  and 
judges  commending  your  book." 

"  Yes,  the  letters  are  very  satisfactory,  but  what 
I  would  now  like,  would  be  your  opinion  of  it.  Did 
you  understand  it,  and  did  it  quite  satisfy  your 
wishes  ?  " 

"  When  my  mother  explained  it  to  me,  I  think 
it  was  not  hard  to  understand,  but  when  I  told 
Julia  about  what  a  nice  book  it  was,  and  all  about 
'The  House  Beautiful,'  she  asked  me  what  was  said 
about  the  parlor." 

"Ah,  then,  after  all  these  fine  letters  which  com- 
mend the  book,  it  is  left  for  little  Julia  to  offer  the 
most  valuable  criticism,  by  simply  asking  a  ques- 
tion." 

"  I  did  not  know,"  said  Julia,  "  how  you  could 
have  a  house  without  a  parlor  ;  we  have  one  at  our 
house,  and  I  think  it  is  the  nicest  room  in  the 
house." 

"  And,  Clarence,  do  you,  too,  think  it  would  be 
nice  to  have  a  parlor,  which  would  be  ornamented 
with  beautiful  curtains  and  have  handsome  car- 
pets ;  would  you  want  an  elegant  sofa  in  one  cor- 
ner of  the  room,  and  on  the  opposite  side,  a  fine 
piano  ;  in  the  centre  of  the  room  a  mahogany  table, 
upon  which  would  rest  beautifully  illustrated  books  ; 
and  should  the  walls  be  adorned  with  beautiful 


372  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

pictures  and  engravings,  so  that  here  you  might 
invite  your  visitors  who  come  in  elegant  attire?" 

"  Yes,"   said    Clarence,  "  I  think  that  would  be 
fine." 

"And  if  you  had  such  a  room  as  this  for  a 
parlor,  would  you  not  want  still  another  room,  a 
picture  gallery,  where  you  could  have  paintings  of 
the  most  renowned  artists  ;  landscapes  and  ma- 
donnas ;  and  paintings  of  dogs  by  Landseer,  which 
are  almost  human  ;  and  horses  by  Rosa  Bonheur, 
that  look  as  if  they  could  walk  out  of  the  canvas  ? 
Every  person,  we  might  say,  has  a  kind  of  picture 
gallery  of  his  own,  of  what  he  has  seen,  and  of 
what  he  has  done,  and  some  of  them  are  pictures 
which  in  all  probability  he  does  not  like  to  look 
upon  ;  and  yet  strangely  enough  he  finds  himself 
turning  to  them  again  and  again.  The  old  man 
sitting  quietly  in  his  arm-chair,  apparently  doing 
nothing,  is  busy,  going  back  through  the  long 
years  of  his  life,  examining  the  various  scenes 
portrayed  in  his  picture  gallery.  He  can  see 
himself  as  a  little  boy  standing  at  his  mother's 
knee,  or  playing  with  his  brothers  and  sisters. 
One  vivid  picture,  perhaps,  is  a  scene  wherein  he 
severely  hurts  a  little  sister  in  a  sudden  fit  of 
anger,  or  it  may  be  it  is  a  picture  of  his  mother's 
face,  grieved  and  sorrowing  over  some  act  of  his 
naughtiness.  He  sees  himself  growing  to  man- 
hood, through  various  scenes  of  his  school  life,  and 
finds  representations  of  his  own  deeds,  whether 


WE  PAINTED    THESE  PICTURES   OURSELVES.     373 

good  or  evil,  indelibly  portrayed  upon  the  walls 
of  his  picture  gallery.  Here,  too,  hang  pictures 
of  the  friends  of  his  life,  various  pictures  of  his 
parents,  as  he  remembers  them  in  his  early  child- 
hood, with  young  and  hopeful  faces,  then  gradually 
changed  to  middle  life  and  to  old  age,  and  at  last 
cold  in  death.  The  friends  whom  he  has  loved, 
the  enemies  whom  he  has  hated,  are  portrayed 
without  regard  to  his  wish  or  desire  to  keep  them  ; 
and  often  without  his  wish  or  desire,  he  is  forced 
to  look  upon  them.  For  some  of  the  most  beautiful 
pictures  he  has  paid  very  little,  simply,  it  may  be, 
a  kind  act  or  a  loving  smile  ;  and  for  some  of  those 
which  are  to  him  the  most  dreadful,  and  which  he 
would  gladly  sell  at  any  price,  he  has  paid  for 
most  -dearly,  and,  worse  than  all,  can  never  part 
with  them,  for  the  pictures  which  hang  upon  the 
walls  of  this  gallery  we  are  often  compelled  to 
look  upon  whether  we  like  to  or  not.  And  yet,  in 
most  cases,  we  have  painted  these  pictures  our- 
selves ;  but  if  we  had  been  wise  enough  to  realize 
all  that  these  paintings  mean,  we  could  have  made 
them  representations  which  would  have  been  a 
delight  to  us.  The  pictures  which  we  paint  in 
early  life  are  more  indelible  than  those  which  we 
paint  in  later  years.  So  it  is  of  very  great  impor- 
tance that  we  bear  this  fact  in  mind,  and  paint  by 
our  deeds  only  such  pictures,  to  hang  upon  the 
walls  of  memory,  as  we  shall  be  glad  to  look  upon 
during  the  whole  of  life, 


374  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

''Then,  too,  since  Clarence  is  so  fond  of  books, 
no  doubt  he  would  desire  that  his  House  Beauti- 
ful should  have  in  it  a  library  of  many  interesting 
and  curious  books.  We  might  say  that  every  one 
has  a  kind  of  library,  but  it  is  not  made  up  only 
of  books  which  we  have  bought  and  put  on  the 
shelves ;  for  the  books  in  this  library  are  only 
those  which  we  have  made  really  our  own,  or 
the  parts  of  the  books  which  we  fully  understand, 
while  the  part  which  we  do  not  understand,  seems 
to  have  dropped  out,  and  we  know  nothing  about 
it.  Many  books,  no  doubt,  are  almost  forgotten, 
simply  a  few  words,  and  sometimes  a  sentence, 
remembered,  and  the  rest  blank  pages.  A  book 
of  history  may  have  been  examined,  but  all  is  for- 
gotten except  possibly  the  one  name  of  Napoleon 
or  Hortense  ;  the  rest  of  the  book  is  blank,  or  the 
words  are  so  indistinct  that  we  cannot  catch  from 
them  any  meaning.  No  book  in  which  we  were 
deeply- interested,  like  Little  Lord  Fauntleroy,  and 
have  read  carefully,  again  and  again,  can  be  easily 
forgotten.  Thus  we  will  find  that  those  who  read 
with  care  and  attention,  and  try  to  master  the 
works  which  they  study,  have  a  library  stored 
with  useful  information  ;  while  the  libraries  of 
others  are  only  tattered  portions  of  useful  books, 
and  possibly  a  confused  medley  of  trashy  stories 
or  useless  novels,  which  form  a  mass  of  disjointed 
leaflets,  or,  may  be,  a  heap  of  rubbish  which  is 
worse  than  useless,  and  burdens  the  shelves  of 


OTHER  APARTMENTS. 


375 


the  library.  It  thus  becomes  very  important  that 
each  individual  when  selecting  his  reading,  should 
choose  the  useful  books,  and  master  the  thoughts, 
so  that  he  will  not  have  his  library  filled  with  rub- 
bish." 

"That  is  very  much  what  my  mother  has  told 
me,"  said  Clarence,  "  though  she  did  not  use  so 
many  words  when  she  explained  it.  I  always  try 
to  read  good  books  and  to  understand  them." 

"  But  do  you  wish  to  know  why  it  is  that  the 
book,  *  The  Man  Wonderful  in  the  House  Beauti- 
ful,' has  no  chapter  on  the  parlor  and  picture  gal- 
lery and  library  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Clarence,  "  I  should  like  very  much 
to  know  the  reason." 

"  You  call  this  bower  your  house,  and  you  are 
playing  keep  house,  are  you  not  ?" 

"  Certainly,"  said  Clarence. 

"  You  know  very  well  that  this  is  not  a  house, 
and  you  only  imagine  it  to  be  a  house,  to  please 
your  fancy  ? " 

"  Yes,  that  is  quite  true,"  said  Clarence. 

"  There  are  separate  apartments  in  our  bodies, 
which  can  well  be  called  the  butler's  pantry,  the 
dining  room,  the  laundry,  and  so  on,  but  there  are 
no  separate  apartments  that  we  know  of,  used  ex- 
pressly as  a  library  or  a  parlor  ;  and  to  describe 
such  apartments  would  be  an  appeal  to  the  imagi- 
nation for  that  which  does  not  exist  in  fact,  and 
thus  our  teaching  would  appear  to  lack  truthful- 


376 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 


ness.  But  there  are  other  apartments  concerning 
which  you  have  not  had  a  full  description,  and 
possibly  you  would  like  to  know  what  are  the 
functions  of  these  apartments,  where  located,  and 
what  they  are  called." 

" 1  should  be  greatly  pleased,"  said  Clarence,  "  to 
know  and  hear  all  that  can  be  taught  about  our 
House  Beautiful,  for  I  really  want  to  understand 
how  we  live  in  our  bodies." 

"It  will  afford  me  great  pleasure,"  I  replied,  "to 
give  you  all  the  knowledge  we  have  concerning 
these  new  apartments,  for  I  think  you  are  quite 
old  enough  to  understand  them." 

"Are  they  difficult  to  understand,"  asked  Clar- 
ence, "like  the  Mysterious  Chambers?" 

"  O,  no,"  I  responded,  "not  like  the  Mysterious 
Chambers  in  any  way,  because  we  know  almost 
nothing  about  them,  but  there  is  very  much  that 
we  know  about  these  new  apartments,  and  we 
will  try  to  learn  something  that  will  be  new  and 
interesting." 

"All  right,"  said  Clarence,  "  it  will  just  delight 
me  to  be  learning  something  that  is  new  and  in- 
teresting. That's  my  ticket  every  time." 


CHAPTER     III. 

THE    LITTLE   HOUSE. 

WHILE  walking  up  South  Hill  the  next  day,  I  was 
thinking  what  great  pleasure  we  would  find  in  little 
children  if  we  could  only  enter  into  their  modes  of 
thought,  and  converse  with  them  with  the  same 
sincerity  which  they  manifest  among  themselves. 
We  should  be  obliged  to  overlook  their  misuse  of 
some  wor'ds  and  wrong  conclusions,  no  doubt ;  but 
if  we  were  honestly  searching  for  the  ideas  which 
are  struggling  in  them  for  utterance,  we  should  not 
think  so  much  about  their  errors.  Some  children 
are  such  wise  little  philosophers  that  we  could  learn 
much  from  their  quaint  expressions  of  antique 
thought,  if  we  would  but  give  heed  to  our  op- 
portunities. 

Persons  at  all  interested  in  watching  the  devel- 
opment of  young  manhood  and  womanhood  would 
have  been  delighted  with  these  two  children  often 
and  eleven.  Clarence,  the  older,  was  well  devel- 
oped and  compact  in  his  organization.  His  head 
was  slightly  larger  than  that  of  most  boys  of  his 
age  ;  his  forehead  was  broad,  as  well  as  a  little 
higher  than  one  usually  sees.  The  lower  part  of 

(377) 


378  rHE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

his  face  corresponded  to  the  upper  portion,  and 
his  chin  indicated,  if  anything,  strength  of  charac- 
ter ;  his  head  was  rounded  out  everywhere,  so 
that  there  was  no  peculiarity  upon  which  to  hang 
remarks.  His  eyes  were  dark  blue,  full  of  deep 
expression.  One  would  not  call  him  a  pretty 
child,  but  a  noble  boy.  Those  who  have  looked 
with  attentive  admiration  upon  the  bust  of  Au- 
gustus Caesar  as  he  appeared  when  twelve  years 
of  age,  as  shown  in  the  Vatican  at  Rome,  would 
have  had  it  called  to  mind  when  looking  at  Clar- 
ence. His  manner  was  pleasant  and  cheerful,  and 
a  deep-seated  earnestness,  which  permeated  his 
whole  nature,  awakened  one's  attention.  To  the 
student  of  human  nature  his  development  was 
more  than  interesting ;  it  was  charming.  His 
language  and  mode  of  thought  demonstrated  that 
he  had  been  accustomed  to  hear  the  leading 
thoughts  of  the  day  discussed  in  a  rational  man- 
ner, and  with  a  freedom  quite  characteristic  of 
the  American  people. 

His  little  companion,  Julia,  had  a  well-shaped 
head,  and  black,  sparkling  eyes.  Her  dark  hair 
had  a  tendency  to  curl,  which  an  affectionate  and 
attentive  mother  turned  to  advantage,  and  a  few 
little  ringlets  added  adornment  to  her  almost 
marble-white  forehead.  Her  dark  eyebrows  and 
long  black  eye-lashes  were  ornaments  upon  a  clear 
complexion  with  rosy  cheeks.  Some  days,  when 
her  mother  could  afford  the  time,  her  hair  hung  in 


JULIA.  379 

long  curls  down  to  her  shoulders  ;  at  other  times 
it  was  braided  and  hung  down  her  back.  Her 
manner  seemed  to  indicate  that  she  thought  her- 
self better  prepared  to  entertain  company  when 
her  hair  was  curled,  f«**'  at  such  times  she  pos- 
sessed more  grace  and  graciousness  of  manner,  and 
a  desire  to  please  was  manifest  in  all  her  move- 
ments. Her  deep-colored  lips  and  dimpled  chin 
aided  in  completing  a  face  that  was  attractive  in 
repose,  and  which  when  animated  by  kindly  feel- 
ings, became  charmingly  beautiful.  My  little 
friends  met  me  some  way  from  their  bower,  and 
hand  in  hand  we  walked  to  our  seats. 

"  We  are  now  ready,"  said  Clarence,  "  for  your 
story  about  our  House  Beautiful,  or,  rather,  the 
new  apartment  which  you  say  has  not  been  de- 
scribed to  us." 

"  Yes,  that  is  it,"  chimed  in  Julia,  "we  are  always 
ready  for  a  story." 

"Suppose,"  said  I,  "that  we  should  have  our  at- 
tention called  to  a  new  kind  of  house  ?  " 

"O,  we  are  always  ready  for  anything  new  in 
the  way  of  a  house,"  laughingly  replied  Julia. 
"Clarence,  didn't  we  make  our  plans  for  a  new 
house  down  nearer  the  grove  where  we  could  get 
the  green  boughs  with  less  hard  work,  and  were  n't 
we  going  to  have  sides  to  it  so  we  could  have  a 
door  and  a  window  ?  " 

"  But  what  made  you  think,  Julia,  that  you  needed 
a  door  and  a  window  to  your  house  ?"  I  asked.  "Does 


A  BIR&SNEST. 


381 


not  this  bower  protect  you  sufficiently  from  the 
sun?" 

"Yes,  I  'spect  it  does,"  she  replied,  and  then 
growing  very  animated,  she  continued,  "but  you 
must  know,  Doctor,  that  we  made  a  great  dis- 
covery ;  for  Clarence  found  a  most  beautiful  little 
bird'snest  full  of  little  birds,  and  we  saw  the 
mother  bird  teaching  the  little  birds  how  to  fly, 
and  it  was  so  interesting  to  see  how  the  poor  little 
birds  did  n't  want  to  try  to  fly,  for  fear  they  would 
fall ;  and  when  the  mother  bird  made  the  little 
bird  fly,  it  could  n't  go  but  a  little  ways,  and  came 
down  upon  the  ground,  and  Clarence  caught  it  and 
let  me  hold  it  in  my  hand,  and  it  was  so  very  warm 
and  nice,  and  then  he  put  it  back  into  the  nest 
with  the  other  little  birds.  Then  he  looked  at  the 
bird'snest,  and  said  that  our  bower  was  too  much 
like  a  bird'snest,  because  a  bird'snest  was  all  bot- 
tom, and  our  bower  was  all  roof,  and  that  we  must 
have  a  door  and  a  window,  so  that  it  would  be 
more  like  a  house  than  a  bird'snest." 

"  But  how  is  it,  Julia,"  I  asked,  "  with  the  birds 
in  the  winter  ?  do  they  continue  to  make  their 
home  in  the  nest  ?  " 

"No,  indeed,  they  don't  stay  in  the  nest,"  she 
replied.  "  They  only  use  the  nest  as  we  do  our 
bower,  as  a  summer  residence.  Clarence  ex- 
plained to  me  how  this  is,  and  said  that  most  of 
the  birds  went  away  to  where  it  was  warmer  dur- 
ing our  winters,  and  only  the  snow-birds  stay  all 
winter.  Did  n't  you,  Clarence  ?  " 


EXTEND    THE  LAW   TO  PREACHERS.          383 

.  "Yes,"  said  Clarence,  "but  we  will  hear  about 
the  Doctor's  new  house,  and  then  we  may  be  able 
to  add  some  of  the  improvements  he  suggests." 

"  You  are  very  practical,  my  little  man  Clarence," 
I  replied,  "  to  think  of  adopting  some  of  the  im- 
provements which  might  be  suggested.  Suppose, 
then,  that  we  assume  that  the  architect  and  builder 
of  this  particular  house  we  are  going  to  talk  about 
had,  like  the  architect  of  the  House  Beautiful,  un- 
limited power,  and  by  that  I  mean  that  he  could 
do  anything  that  he  pleased,  and  have  a  house  that 
could  do  just  as  he  wanted  it  to  do." 

"  Doctor,"  exclaimed  Julia,  "  I  hope  you  won't 
have  any  lean-to,  as  we  have  at  our  house,  in  which 
mother  does  the  washing  ;  for  that  old  stove  is  the 
very  torment  of  her  life.  Why,  sometimes  the 
smoke  rolls  out  over  the  top  of  the  room  like 
clouds,  and  then  comes  down  on  us,  and  makes 
our  eyes  red,  and  the  tears  come  even  when  we 
don't  cry,  and  we  go  on  at  our  work  in  our  tears. 
I  tell  you,  mother  gives  it  to  our  preacher  on  such 
days  because  he  smokes.  And  mother  says,  'What 
does  he  need  to  smoke  for  ?  Do  n't  he  know  he  'd 
'have  more  influence  on  his  congregation,  and  es- 
pecially on  the  boys,  if  he  did  n't  smoke  ? '  Then 
think  of  so  many  of  the  best  women  in  his  church 
going  about  with  tears  in  their  eyes  thinking  of 
their  minister's  having  a  vice  like  smoking,  as  if  he 
had  to  sin  a  little  bit  in  public  just  to  show  how 
good  he  could  talk  at  other  times.  Doctor,  it 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

seems  to  me  God  could  have  said  in  the  Bible  to 
the  preachers,  '  Get  down  out  of  my  pulpit,  and  go 
and  wash  the  tobacco  out  of  your  mouth,  and  do  n't 
put  any  more  dirty  smoke  in  your  mouth,  and  then 
you  may  preach.'  Don't  you  think  it  is  harmful, 
Doctor,  to  smoke  ? " 

"  You  are  quite  right,  little  Julia,"  I  answered, 
"  it  is  harmful  to  smoke,  especially  so  for  young 
boys,  whether  attending  school,  or  at  work." 

"Why  do  n't  you  doctors,  then,"  said  Clarence, 
"  teach  the  preachers  not  to  use  tobacco  ?  " 

"The  doctors,"  I  replied,  "have  told  the  preach- 
ers, and  all  others,  that  tobacco  is  poisonous,  and 
that  it  should  only  be  used  as  a  poisonous  medi- 
cine. But  the  fact  is,  most  of  the  preachers  have 
quit  using  the  filthy  weed." 

"Well,  I  wish,"  said  Julia,  "that  our  preacher 
would  quit  smoking,  and  set  a  better  example  to 
our  stove,  and  then  we  would  see  if  it  would  not 
stop  smoking.  I'm  getting  so  I  'bominate  a  smok- 
ing preacher  almost  as  much  as  I  do  our  old  smok- 
ing stove." 

"Just  the  other  day,"  said  Clarence,  "I  was 
reading  in  a  paper  that  in  England  they  do  not 
allow  the  locomotives  to  smoke,  that  Parliament 
has  passed  a  law  against  smoking  locomotives  ; 
and  I  can't  see  why  they  don't  extend  the  same 
law  to  preachers,  for  I  think  it  is  too  bad  if  the 
preachers  in  America  can't  be  as  moral  as  the 
locomotives  in  England." 


AGAINST  TOBACCO   ON  MORAL    GROUNGS. 


385 


"  You  are  right,  Clarence,"  I  said,  "  to  place  your 
reasons  against  tobacco  on  moral  grounds." 

"It  is  just  the  same  with  me,"  said  Julia;  "I 
was  out  on  our  playground  in  the  orchard,  back  of 
the  house,  the  other  day,  when  all  the  preachers 
were  up  at  our  house  to  dinner  ;  and  after  they 
had  eaten  their  dinner,  two  of  the  preachers  came 
out  into  the  orchard  and  lit  their  cigars,  and  went 
puffing  past  where  we  were  playing,  and  I  said  to 
our  preacher  that  he  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  him- 
self, coming  up  there  to  dinner,  and  setting  such  a 
bad  example  to  my  mamma's  old  cook-stove  by 
his  smoking.  He  just  laughed,  and  said  to  the 
other  smoking  preacher,  '  Out  of  the  mouths  of 
sucklings.'  I  told  him  I  was  no  suckling,  but  they 
went  on  their  way  out  into  the  woods." 

"Some  time  ago,"  said  Clarence,  UI  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  I  would  not  use  tobacco,  so  that 
I  could  set  a  good  example  to  other  boys,  and 
become  as  strong  and  useful  a  man  as  I  can  ;  and 
I  shall  be  very  glad  when  we  are  so  free  from 
tobacco  that  we  do  not  even  have  to  use  it  as  a 
subject  to  talk  about." 

"  Quite  true,  Clarence,"  I  replied  ;  "  it  is  some- 
thing of  a  digression  from  our  house  building,  and 
yet  we  must  thank  Julia  for  introducing  it,  for  I 
am  very  glad  to  learn,  among  many  other  valuable 
remarks,  that  you  are  not  going  to  use  it,  and  that, 
too,  for  the  very  good  reason  you  have  given. 
But  turning  again  to  our  house,  which  we  had 


386  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

pretty  well  described,  would  it  not  be  nice  if  we 
could  give  this  beautiful  and  homelike  house  the 
power  to  produce  a  new  house,  just  like  itself,  with 
all  the  fine  furniture,  and  have  it  so  arranged  that 
it  could  grow  larger,  so  that  the  children  could 
have  it  for  a  play-house,  and  while  they  were 
growing  up,  the  house,  too,  would  grow  larger  and 
larger,  and  by  the  time  the  children  were  grown 
to  be  men  and  women,  it  would  be  large  enough 
for  them  to  live  in  ? " 

"Why,  Doctor,  what  do  you  mean?"  said  Julia, 
with  eyes  opening  with  astonishment;  "do  you 
mean  that  the  new  house  that  we  have  been  talk- 
ing about,  should  lay  a  little  house-egg,  just  like 
the  old  hen  lays  a  chicken-egg,  and  after  a  time  a 
little  house  should  come  to  pass,  just  like  the  little 
chick  picks  its  way  out  of  the  egg-shell  ? " 

"  Yes,  Julia,"  said  Clarence,  looking  almost  be- 
wildered, as  if  he  was  striving  to  get  possession  of 
the  ideas,  "that  is  about  the  idea  I  get  of  the 
Doctor's  great  expectations.  But  I  do  n't  exactly 
see  how  it  could  come  about.  Do  you  think  it 
could,  Doctor?" 

"  You  must  remember,"  I  replied,  "that  we  sup- 
posed or  assumed  that  the  architect  and  builder  of 
this  particular  house  had  all  power,  that  he  could 
do  anything  and  everything  ;  and  if  so,  he  could 
make  it  in  such  a  way  that  it  would  have  a  little 
house." 

"  Well,  Julia,"  said  Clarence,  "since  we  consented 


A  LITTLE  HOUSE-EGG. 


387 


that  the  man  who  made  the  house  had  all  power, 
of  course  he  could  make  it  so  it  would  lay  a  house- 
egg,  as  you  say  ;  and  then  you  would  have  a  lit- 
tle house  to  play  in,  and  by  the  time  we  were 
grown  as  big  as  we  are  now,  the  little  house  would 
be  large  enough  for  us  to  go  in  and  out  of,  and  we 
could  use  it  in  place  of  this  bower." 

"  And  would  it  have  real  doors  and  windows,"  in- 
quired Julia,  "that  we  could  use  just  like  those  at 
home  ?  and  would  it  be  filled  with  fine  furniture, 
and  all  the  nice  things  we  have  heard  mentioned  ?" 

"  I  certainly  think  so,  "said  Clarence.  "Do  you 
so  understand  it,  Doctor?" 

"Indeed  I  do,"  I  answered,  "and  it  would  be  a 
very  nice  house  in  which  to  play." 

"I  can  see,"  said  Julia,  "that  it  would  be  very 
nice  on  days  when  it  rained  or  was  cold  ;  but  I 
think  that  in  clear  weather  it  would  not  be  so  nice 
as  our  bower  house,  and  yet  I  cannot  understand 
how  it  could  be  that  way." 

"  But,  Julia,"  I  asked,  "  do  not  the  beets  and  on- 
ions and  all  the  flowers  and  plants  in  your  mother's 
garden  produce  seeds,  and  do  not  these,  when 
planted  the  next  year,  grow  up  into  plants  just  like 
those  on  which  the  seeds  grow  ?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Julia,  "I  have  often  thought 
about  that,  and  I  cannot  understand  it.  To  me  it 
is  a  profound  mystery,  and  I  wish  you  would  ex- 
plain it  so  that  I  could,  at  least,  think  that  I  knew 
something  about  it," 


THE  HOLY  OF  FIO LIES. 

"  Fortunately  we  have  a  few  flowers,"  said  I, 
"and  I  may  be  able  to  aid  you  in  understanding 
better  than  you  now  do  this  very  interesting  and 
yet  very  profound  subject.  Thousands  of  scien- 
tific men  have  studied  and  experimented  during 
thousands  of  years  to  learn  the  exact  truth  how 
plants  and  animals  reproduce  themselves,  and  I  will 
try  to  teach  you  what  is  universally  accepted  as 
true  science  on  this  subject.  This  flower  you  rec- 
ognize as  a  lily  ;  the  upper,  or  white  portion,  which 
you  call  the  flower,  the  man  of  science  calls  the 
corolla,  or  crown.  Now  let  me  pull  this  white  por- 
tion out,  and  we  have  left  this  green  calyx,  or 
flower  cup.  These  little  stems  which  stand  in  the 
centre  of  the  cup  are  called  the  stamens.  Each  one, 
you  observe,  has  its  outer  end  somewhat  enlarged, 
and  this  portion  is  called  the  anther,  and  by  pick- 
ing it  open  you  learn  that  it  is  hollow,  and  is  filled 
with  a  fine  powder  called  the  pollen  ;  and  it  is  this 
pollen  which  gives  life  to  the  seed,  and  causes  it  to 
grow." 

"  O  yes,"  said  Julia,  "  I  know  what  the  pollen  is, 
because  mamma  told  me  one  day  when  we  girls 
had  colored  our  cheeks  with  the  yellow  of  the  lily  ; 
but  I  did  not  think  it  had  anything  to  do  with  mak- 
ing the  seeds  of  young  plants  grow." 

"Indeed  it  has  the  greatest  value,"  I  replied,  "for 
without  the  pollen  no  seed  would  grow.  Do  you 
see  that  this  stem  (pointing  to  it)  differs  from  the 
others  ? " 


THEY  ARE   FERTILIZED  BY   THE   POLLEN.     389 

"  Yes,"  said  Julia,  "it  is  a  little  larger  ;  and  the 
top  part,  or  the  head,  is  not  the  same  shape  as  the 
others." 

"I  am  glad  that  you  noticed  a  difference,"!  said, 
"because  this  one  is  called  the  pistil,  and  the  upper 
end  is  not  covered  with  a  veil  or  skin  like  the 
others,  and  is  known  as  the  stigma.  Now  the 
stigma  as  well  as  its  stem  is  hollow,  so  that  when 
the  stamens  get  ripe  and  throw  out  their  pollen,  it 
falls  on  the  unprotected  or  open  stigma,  and  passes 
down  through  its  hollow  stem  to  this  enlargement 
at  its  bottom,  which  is  called  the  ovary,  or  egg- 
bed.  Here  in  the  ovary  are  the  ovules,  or  little 
eggs,  fertilized  by  the  pollen,  which  grow  and  in 
time  become  the  seeds  of  the  plant." 

"  But  how  do  you  know,  Doctor,"  asked  Clarence, 
"  that  the  pollen  gets  down  into  the  ovary  ;  I  do  n't 
see  that  you  have  proved  yet  that  the  pollen  has 
anything  to  do  with  ripening  the  seed." 

"Lam  very  glad,  my  boy,"  I  replied,  "that  you 
express  a  doubt  as  to  the  truth  of  my  statement, 
because  out  of  doubt  and  unbelief  has  science 
grown.  If  you  combine  with  your  doubting  great 
love  of  truth  and  perseverance  in  investigation,  you 
will  make  a  man  of  science.  I  will  suggest  how 
you  might  try  an  experiment  to  test  whether  the 
pollen  goes  down  through  the  stigma  and  its  stem 
to  the  ovary.  Take  one  nice  lily  and  clip  off  its 
stamens,  and  from  another  lily  clip  off  the  pistil, 
and  let  their  seeds  ripen  ;  and  when  you  find  the 


390 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 


seeds  of  normal  size  and  form,  and  after  planting 
them  learn  that  none  of  them  will  grow,  will  y^" 
not  think  that  the  pollen  has  something  to  do  with 
the  perfection  of  the  seeds?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  Clarence,  "  I  think  if  I  had 
tried  a  number  of  such  experiments  and  always 
had  the  same  results,  I  would  be  convinced." 

"  Thousands  of  such  experiments  have  been 
made,"  I  replied,  "  by  the  most  careful  and  most 
scientific  men,  and  it  is  now  universally  conceded 
that  the  pollen  is  the  life  of  the  plant,  and  that 
without  it  no  seed  comes  to  perfection." 

"I  think,  Clarence,"  said  Julia,  "that  I  will  ac- 
cept the  Doctor's  teaching  without  waiting  for 
your  experiments,  for  I  am  anxious  to  get  on  in 
our  lessons  to  the  new  apartment  in  the  House 
Beautiful." 

"Thank  you,  Julia,"  I  responded,  "  for  your  con- 
fidence in  my  teaching,  but  with  your  permission, 
I  will  call  to  Clarence's  attention  our  Indian  corn 
for  experimenting.  The  pollen  grows  at  the  top 
of  the  plant,  while  the  silk  on  the  ear  is  the  many 
pistils,  a  pistil  for  each  grain  of  corn.  Sometimes 
an  'ear  of  corn  can  be  found  with  here  and  there  a 
red  grain  of  corn,  while  all  the  others  are  white, 
showing  that  the  pollen  of  the  red  grain  came 
from  a  different  stalk  of  corn.  I  am  always  filled 
with  admiration  when  I  think  of  the  pollen  finding 
its  way  through  the  long  silk  of  the  corn.  I  told 
you  that  the  pollen'  worked  its  way  through  the 


EVERY  LIVING    THING  HAS  PARENTS.        ^l 

pistil  to  the  ovary,  and  I  must  now  tell  you  that 
here  it  finds  the  ovules,  and  joins  with  them  ;  and 
from  the  union  of  these  two  we  obtain  the  perfect 
seed.  Many  plants  furnish  both  the  pollen  and 
the  ovules  on  the  same  stalk,  while  many  others 
have  the  pollen  upon  one  plant,  which  is  known  as 
the  male,  and  the  other  having  the  ovules  in  the 
ovary  is  known  as  the  female  plant." 

"Would  it  be  correct,"  asked  Clarence,  "  to  say 
that  the  plant  with  the  stamens  which  furnish  the 
pollen  represents  the  father,  and  that  the  plant 
which  has  the  ovules  in  the  ovary  represents  the 
mother  ?  " 

"  If  Clarence  is  right  in  saying  that  plants  have 
fathers  and  mothers,"  said  Julia,  "  would  it  not  be 
right  to  say  that  the  seed  is  the  baby  plant,  and 
that  it  is  rocked  in  its  cradle  in  the  ovary  ? " 

"  I  must  acknowledge,"  I  answered,  "  that  both 
of  you  are  correct,  and  it  is  an  instructive  thought 
to  remember  that  every  living  thing  has  a  father 
and  a  mother." 

"  The  pollen,  as  you  know,  is  generally  carried 
by  the  air,  or  wind,  and  falls  upon  the  stigma  of 
the  mother  plant.  This  may  take  place  when  the 
plants  are  miles  away  from  each  other.  This  will 
cause  you  to  reflect  what  a  vast  number,  millions 
upon  millions,  of  these  atoms  there  must  be,  which 
make  up  the  pollen.  Sometimes,  however,  the 
pollen  is  carried  from  one  flower  to  another  by  the 
bees  and  other  insects  that  visit  the  flowers,  and 


392 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 


take  with  them  some  of  the  pollen  on  their  legs 
and  wings,  which  is  left  on  other  plants,  and  often 
on  the  ones  that  need  it. 

"Most  fish  are  almost  as  lavish  as  the  flowers,  of 
their  elements  of  new  beings,  for  the  female  de- 
posits her  eggs  in  the  water,  on  the  gravelly  bot- 
tom, and  the  male  fish,  at  the  same  time,  deposits 
the  zoosperms,  by  which  they  are  fecundated. 
One  would  naturally  think  there  must  be  great 
numbers  of  zoosperms  and  eggs  when  they  can  be 
emptied  into  the  water  in  this  manner.  The  water 
of  the  North  Sea,  as  reported  by  close  observers, 
is  sometimes  turbid  with  the  eggs  of  the  codfish, 
in  the  spawning  season. 

"  Some  plants,  instead  of  having  seeds  which 
grow  and  reproduce  the  plant,  throw  off  little  buds 
or  branches,  which  take  root  and  become  new 
plants.  And  among  the  lower  animals  we  find  a 
very  curious  variety  called  a  polyp.  It  makes  it- 
self fast  to  some  object,  and  as  it  grows,  puts  out 
little  buds,  which  separate  from  the  parent,  and 
float  about  in  the  water,  a  separate  being.  But 
this  new  being  does  not  act  as  its  immediate 
parent,  and  make  itself  fast  to  anything,  but  keeps 
floating  about  in  the  water,  and  instead  of  throw- 
ing off  a  bud,  lays  eggs,  which  hatch  and  in  turn 
become  stationary  polyps  like  the  grandparent, 
and  like  them  throw  off  buds,  which  become 
swimming  polyps.  Thus  we  learn  that  the  lower 
forms  of  animal  life  are  very  much  like  some  of 
the  forms  of  plant  life. 


THIS  ARCHITECT  HAS  ALL  POWER.          393 

"  I  have  told  you  that  some  plants,  like  the  In- 
dian corn,  have  both  elements  necessary  for  pro- 
ducing seed,  the  pollen  and  the  egg.  Among  the 
lower  animals,  as  the  mollusks,  the  oyster,  and  the 
tape-worm,  a  single  individual  can  fertilize  its  own 
eggs.  Such  an  individual  is  called  a  hermaphro- 
dite, whether  plant  or  animal.  Human  hermaph- 
rodites have  been  reported  at  various  times,  but 
never  yet  has  one  been  found  that  alone  had  the 
power  to  bring  forth  young." 

"  I  think  this  subject  is  not  so  dark  to  me  as  it 
was,"  said  Julia,  "  and  I  can  now  see  why  a  house 
cannot  have  a  little  house-egg,  because  it  is  not 
alive." 

"That  is  very  well  said,  Julia,  and  shows  that 
you  are  thinking,"  I  replied  ;  "  but  you  must  re- 
member that  we  were  trying  to  learn  a  lesson  by 
supposing  that  the  builder  of  our  supposed  house 
had  all  power,  and  if  so,  he  could  make  a  house 
that  would  do  as  we  contemplated,  and  I  wish  to 
show  you  that  the  architect  of  this  house  in  which 
we  dwell,  this  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  has  given 
to  it  this  power  of  reproducing  itself." 

"But,  Doctor,"  said  Julia,  "  I  was  just  thinking 
that  if  every  plant  and  tree  had  a  father  and  a 
mother,  then  the  birds  and  bees  and  butterflies, 
and  all  living  creatures,  must  have  fathers  and 
mothers." 

"Yes,  Julia,"  I  replied,  "and  you  must  have 
learned  by  seeing  birds  build  their  nests  that  two 
birds  work  together.  One  is  a  little  larger  than 


394 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 


the  other,  and  generally  has  brighter  plumage  ; 
this  one  is  the  male  bird,  or  father  bird.  When 
they  have  completed  their  nest,  the  mother  bird 
lays  the  eggs  in  the  nest.  These  eggs  come  from 
the  ovary,  or  egg-bed,  of  the  mother  bird,  but  they 
would  not  hatch  or  produce  little  birds,  if  they  had 
not  been  fertilized  by  a  fluid  produced  in  the  body 
of  the  father  bird,  which  acts  upon  the  mother-egg 
like  the  pollen  of  the  plant  upon  the  ovules  in  the 
ovary  of  the  plant.  Not  every  egg  contains  a  little 
bird,  because  the  mother  bird  may  do  her  part  of 
this  duty,  and  lay  the  eggs  when  there  has  been 
no  chance  for  the  father  bird  to  fertilize  her  eggs. 
No  one  can  see  any  difference  between  eggs  that 
are  fertilized  and  those  which  are  not ;  and  for 
this  reason  some  of  the  eggs  in  a  nest  may  not 
hatch.  All  that  is  necessary  to  make  a  fertilized 
egg  hatch,  is  to  keep  it  warm  about  three  weeks. 
The  mother  bird  generally  sits  upon  the  eggs  and 
keeps  them  warm,  but  sometimes  the  father  bird 
takes  turns  with  her  in  warming  the  eggs." 

"But  do  all  animals  lay  eggs,  like  the  birds?" 
asked  Julia. 

"  Not  exactly  like  the  birds,"  I  answered  ;  "  for 
the  birds'  eggs  have  a  hard  shell  on  them,  and  this 
enables  the  mother  bird  to  hatch  them  outside  of 
her  body.  Most  animals  have  very  small  eggs, 
without  a  shell,  and  the  egg  remains  in  the  body 
until  it  has  developed,  or  grown  to  be  an  animal. 

"  Some  animals,  however,  are  very  peculiar  ;  for 
they  retain  the  young  animal  in  the  body  until  it 


THE  KANGAROO. 


395 


is  only  partly  grown.  The  kangaroo,  for  instance, 
retains  the  embryo  within  her  body  about  forty 
days,  and  then  the  infant  finds  its  way  to  a  pocket, 
or  pouch,  on  the  mother's  abdomen,  where  it  at- 
taches itself  to  a  nipple,  and  hangs  on  for  weeks 
and  months.  Some  think  that  it  could  not  get 
away  from  the  nipple  and  the  pouch  if  it  tried,  be- 
fore the  seventh  or  eighth  month.  Then  it  occa- 
sionally sticks  its  head  out,  and  about  the  ninth 
month  quits  its  retreat,  but  is  very  prompt  in 
hiding  itself  in  the  pouch  when  danger  threatens, 
or  hunger  beckons  its  return." 

"  Does  not  the  opossum,"  asked  Clarence,  "  do 
very  much  the  same  way  with  her  young  ?  "  "  Yes," 
I  answered,  "  the  opossum  belongs  to  the  same 
family,  and  is  equally  successful  with  her  young. 

"  There  is  a  frog  that  manages  in  a  peculiar 
manner.  He  makes  a  sticking  paste,  that  is  water- 
proof, and  sticks  the  eggs  upon  his  companion's 
back,  where  they  remain  until  they  hatch.  Then 
there  is  a  fish  that  cares  for  the  eggs  by  taking 
them  in  her  mouth,  and  keeping  them  there  until 
they  hatch.  So  you  see  there  are  many  curious 
ways  of  taking  care  of  the  young,  without  adopting 
the  method  of  the  Indian  woman,  who  ties  her 
child  to  a  piece  of  board,  and  hangs  it  on  the 
branch  of  a  tree." 

"O  I  remember,"  exclaimed  Julia,  with  much 
animation,  "when  our  old  cat  hatched  three  little 
kittens,  and  they  all  had  to  count  their  birthday 
from  the  same  day,"  bringing  her  hand  down  with 


396  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

some  force,  and  an  expression  that  seemed  to  indi- 
cate that  she  thought  the  kittens  were  really  very 
unfortunate  not  to  have  had  separate  birthdays. 
Then  her  expression  changed  to  the  more  serious, 
and  she  continued,  "  We  children  had  to  be  very 
kind,  for  a  long  time,  to  the  mother  cat,  because 
if  we  had  hurt  her  by  a  kick  or  a  thump,  we  might 
have  killed  a  little  kitten  before  it  was  hatched, 
and  that  would  have  been  very  wicked." 

"That  reminds  me,"  said  Clarence,  uthat  we  had 
a  mother  dog  once  that  had  four  little  puppies. 
Should  I  say  they  were  hatched,  Doctor  ? " 

"  While  all  young  animals  develop  or  grow  from 
an  egg,  to  make  a  distinction  we  say,  when  the 
young  animal  comes  from  its  mother's  body,  that 
it  was  born,  and  only  those  that  come  from  an  egg 
outside  of  the  body  are  hatched." 

"Are  there,  then,"  asked  Clarence,  "separate 
apartments  where  the  eggs  come  from,  and  others 
where  the  young  are  developed  in  the  body  ?  I 
would  like  to  learn  all  about  the  development  of 
young  animals." 

"  It  would  afford  me  great  pleasure  to  teach  you 
all  I  know  on  this  subject,"  I  replied,  "  but  before 
we  attempt  to  consider  these  apartments  and 
their  uses,  I  must  call  your  attention  to  the  sacred- 
ness  of  the  subject ;  for  very  much  depends  upon 
the  state  of  mind  in  which  we  approach  so  very 
important  a  subject.  You  have  been  taught,  no 
doubt,  that  God  is  everywhere." 


GOD  IS  ESPECIALLY  PRESENT.  397 

"Yes,  indeed,"  said  Julia,  "  my  mother  has 
taught  me  that,  and  so  has  my  Sunday-school 
teacher  ;  and  yet  it  is  pretty  hard  for  me  to  be- 
lieve that  God  is  in  the  dark  when  I  try  to  go  to 
bed  without  a  light.  I  'm  always  afraid  that  the 
evil  one  is  in  the  dark  ;  but  it  is  easy  for  me  to 
believe  that  God  is  in  the  light,  and  if  God  is  like 
me,  he  do  n't  stay  in  the  dark  for  pleasure." 

"Nearly  all  of  us,"  said  I,  "young  and  old,  have 
a  kind  of  feeling  that  God  may  be  absent  from  the 
dark,  and  I  am  obliged  to  you  for  mentioning  this 
fact,  for  it  helps  us  to  understand  what  I  was  about 
to  say,  that  there  are  certain  times  and  places 
or  circumstances  in  which  we  speak  of  God  as 
especially  present." 

"  My  mother  has  told  me,"  said  Clarence,  "  that 
when  we  have  a  death  in  the  family,  God  is  espe- 
cially present.  We  all  thought  so  when  my  little 
brother  died,  for  we  were  all  so  very  sorrowful." 

"Your  mother,  Clarence,  was  correct,"  I  re- 
sponded, "because  death  is  so  mysterious  that  we 
are  wholly  unable  to  explain  it,  and  any  great 
mystery  is  apt  to  make  us  think  of  the  presence  of 
God.  Possibly  you  remember  reading  in  the  Bible 
about  Moses  seeing,  when  in  the  wilderness,  a  fire 
in  a  bush." 

"  Yes,"  said  Clarence,  "  I  remember  that  very 
well,  for  I  learned  it  as  my  lesson  at  Sunday- 
school,  and  at  one  time  I  could  repeat  all  those 
verses.  I  now  remember  some  of  them.  It  says  : 

26 


398 


THE   HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 


'And  the  Angel  of  the  Lord  appeared  unto  him  in 
a  flame  of  fire  out  of  the  midst  of  a  bush  :  and  he 
looked,  and,  behold,  the  bush  burned  with  fire,  and 
the  bush  was  not  consumed.'  It  has  always  been 
as  great  a  mystery  to  me  as  it  was  to  Moses,  why 
it  did  not  burn  up  the  bush." 

"  Yes,"  I  replied,  "  that  is  one  of  the  mysteries 
that  has  never  been  explained  ;  and  yet  did  you 
observe  that  Moses  said,  '  I  will  now  turn  aside, 
and  see  this  great  sight,  why  the  bush  is  not  burnt  ?' 
It  was  apparently  this  spirit  of  inquiry  on  the  part 
of  Moses  which  causes  him  to  hear  the  voice  of 
God,  for  it  says,  '  When  the  Lord  saw  that  he 
turned  aside  to  see,  God  called  unto  him  out  of 
the  midst  of  the  bush,  and  said,  Moses,  Moses, 
.  .  .  draw  not  nigh  hither  :  put  off  thy  shoes  from 
off  thy  feet  ;  for  the  place  whereon  thou  standest 
is  holy  ground.'  This  seems  to  indicate  that  where 
so  great  a  mystery  announces  the  peculiar  pres- 
ence of  God,  even  the  ground  is  holy.  You  will 
not  fail,  I  hope,  to  remember  that  it  was  the  inquir- 
ing mind  that  received  the  message  from  God,  and 
it  is  also  true  to-day  that  the  one  who  asks  has  an 
answer,  and  he  who  seeks  the  truth  is  most  certain 
to  find  it.  Knowledge  is  given  to  the  one  who 
anxiously  and  persistently  strives  for  it." 

"  I  should  have  thought,"  said  Julia,  "  that  Moses 
would  have  been  frightened  to  hear  the  voice  of 
God.  He  is  so  very  powerful  that  his  voice  may 
have  been  like  the  thunder." 

"True,  Julia,"  I  replied,  "we  are  very  apt  to  be- 


THE    VOICE    OF  GOD. 


399 


lieve  that  where  there  is  great  power  there  is  also 
a  great  voice.  Thus  the  lion,  the  most  ferocious  of 
wild  animals,  has  a  great  voice  ;  but  we  must 
remember  that  the  ox,  though  not  ferocious,  but 
mild  in  his  nature,  has  a  greater  voice  than  even 
the  lion.  If  we  turn  to  the  account  of  Elijah's 
flight  into  the  wilderness,  we  can  learn  that  God 
was  not  in  the  tempestuous  storm  that  rent  the 
mountain  :  nor  in  the  earthquake,  but  in  the  'still 
small  voice,'  like  our  conscience,  which  tells  us  not 
to  do  wrong." 

"  When  I  see  baby's  orange  and  want  it,  and 
think  I  would  like  to  eat  it,"  asked  Julia,  "and 
something  within  me  says,  '  No,  that  is  not  right/ 
is  my  conscience  speaking  to  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Clarence,  "I  understand  that  to  be 
your  conscience,  or  God  speaking  to  you  through 
your  conscience." 

"  Yes,  Clarence  and  Julia,  you  are  both  right," 
I  said,  "and  ^  might  almost  say  in  the  cases 
which  we  are  considering  that  God  spoke  to  us 
through  the  mysterious.  People  look  upon  death 
as  mysterious,  and  I  am  now  trying  to  teach  you 
that  birth,  or  rather  the  origin  of  life,  is  as  great  a 
mystery  as  death,  and  that  God  is  peculiarly  pres- 
ent at  the  beginning  of  life,  and  therefore  we 
should  approach  this  subject  with  great  reverence." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  reverence  ? "  asked 
Julia. 

"For  asking  that  question,  Julia,"  I  replied,  "I 
must  thank  you,  for  without  understanding  that 


4OO 


THE  77<9ZF  OF  HOLIES. 


word,  it  is  almost  impossible  to  get  a  correct  idea 
of  the  subject  under  discussion  ;  and  in  truth  it  is 
a  very  hard  word  to  define.  By  reverence  we  mean 
that  you  should  not  feel  and  act  in  a  careless,  in- 
different, and  playful  manner.  You  should  feel 
serious  and  thoughtful,  and  have  your  wits  about 
you,  so  that  you  may  understand  what  is  taking 
place  or  what  is  being  taught." 

"Well,  I  am  always  serious  about  house-keep- 
ing," said  Julia,  "and  I  think  that  it  would  be  al- 
most impossible  to  be  indifferent  to  any  of  the  facts 
about  the  House  Beautiful.  You  see  I  wish  to 
learn  all  I  can  about  houses  and  house-keeping, 
for  some  day  I  hope  to  have  a  house  of  my  own, 
and  it  seems  to  me  that  the  more  I  know  about  the 
House  Beautiful,  the  more  useful  I  will  be  when  I 
grow  older." 

"You  are  right,  Julia,"  said  Clarence  (nod- 
ding his  head  approvingly),  "  and  I  am  anxious  to 
know  what  the  Doctor  calls  this  n^w  and  yet  un- 
known apartment  of  the  House  Beautiful." 

"It  would  be  best  to  name  it,"  said  I,  "  The  Holy 
of  Holies,  because  this  name  would  impress  us 
with  the  great  sacredness  of  the  chamber,  and 
help  us  to  approach  its  contemplation  with  suffi- 
cient decorum  and  reverence." 

"But  what  is  meant  by  The  Holy  of  Holies?" 
asked  Julia,  with  an  expression  that  showed  she 
was  in  a  profound  study. 


CHAPTER     IV. 

THE    HOLY   OF    HOLIES. 

"THAT  question,"  I  answered,  "gives  Clarence  a 
chance  to  show  us  how  well  he  remembers  what  he 
has  read  in  the  Bible.  Now,  Clarence,  please  in- 
form us  what  we  understand  by  The  Holy  of 
Holies." 

"I  am  afraid,"  said  Clarence,  "that  I  shall  be 
hardly  able  to  make  you  understand  it,  for  I  have 
not  read  about  it  for  some  time.  I  can  remember 
that  when  the  children  of  Israel  were  on  their 
journey  through  the  wilderness,  Moses  made  a 
tabernacle,  and  in  it  was  the  Holy  of  Holies." 

"You  are  correct,  Clarence,"  said  I  ;  "  Aaron,  Mo- 
ses' brother,  was  appointed  the  high  priest,  and  con- 
ducted the  religious  rites  and  ceremonies,  and  the 
tabernacle  had  two  rooms  or  apartments,  one  called 
the  Holy  Place,  and  the  second,  or  innermost  one, 
was  called  the  Holy  of  Holies.  We  have  to  remem- 
ber that  the  children  of  Israel  were  at  that  time  liv- 
ing in  tents,  and  that  the  tabernacle  was  what  we 
might  call  a  large  tent,  much  larger  than  any  other 
tent,  and  made  of  richer  and  finer  materials,  so  as  to 
make  it  very  attractive  and  beautiful,  and  that  in 

(401) 


402  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

the  tabernacle  Jehovah  manifested  his  presence 
through  the  high  priest  to  the  children  of  Israel. 
We  have  been  considering  the  body  as  a  house, 
but  'Christ  spoke  of  it  as  a  temple,  and  a  temple 
you  must  remember  is  a  building  in  which  people 
worship  God.  We  should  never  forget  that  where- 
ever  we  are,  or  whatever  we  do,  we  must  always 
worship  God  as  long  as  we  live  in  this  world,  from 
within  this  House  Beautiful  which  we  inhabit. 
This  body,  then,  becomes  our  temple,  and  if 
God  meets  us  here,  then  it  is  also  the  temple  of 
the  Holy  Ghost." 

"  Should  we  then  say,"  asked  Julia,  "  that  our 
churches  are  temples  because  in  them  the  people 
worship  God  ? " 

"  The  temple,"  I  answered,  "  differs  from  churches 
in  two  important  respects.  Clarence  may  remem- 
ber that  it  was  not  until  four  hundred  years  after 
the  children  of  Israel  went  out  of  Egypt  that  the 
temple  was  built.  They  had  become  possessed  of 
much  wealth,  and  many  of  them  were  skilled  work- 
men. King  David,  during  a  prosperous  reign  of 
forty  years,  was  busy  collecting  the  materials  out 
of  which  the  temple  was  to  be  built ;  but  the  build- 
ing of  the  temple  was  left  for  his  son  Solomon,  the 
wisest  man  in  the  East.  The  temple  was  not  an 
immense  building,  in  which  vast  audiences  could 
be  seated.  Indeed,  it  was  not  intended  as  a  place 
in  which  the  people  were  to  assemble,  but  rather  a 
place  where  the  priests  could  meet  and  offer  sacri- 


THE    TEMPLE. 

fice.  It  was  only  about  one  hundred  feet  long, 
thirty  feet  wide,  and  forty-five  feet  high.  It  dif- 
fered also  from  our  churches  in  the  richness  and 
splendor  of  its  finish.  It  was  built  of  carved  stones, 
and  its  walls  covered  with  precious  woods,  carved 
in  figures  ;  and  the  walls,  the  floors,  and  the  ouN 
side  roof  were  overlaid  with  pure  gold,  and  so,  too, 
were  all  the  utensils  used  in  the  religious  ceremo- 
nies. You  can  easily  imagine  how  splendid  such  a 
building  would  appear  when  the  sun  was  shining 
upon  it.  The  interior  was  divided  into  an  outer 
and  inner  room,  and  the  latter  was  known  as  the 
Holy  of  Holies,  and  in  this  was  kept  the  most  sa- 
cred objects  belonging  to  the  nation,  such  as 
Aaron's  rod,  the  ark,  and  the  law  of  the  covenant, 
written  by  Moses  upon  two  tables  of  stone,  and 
known  to  us  as  the  ten  commandments.  We  can 
form  some  idea  of  the  great  sacredness  of  the 
Holy  of  Holies,  when  we  reflect  that  here,  through 
the  medium  of  the  high  priest,  Jehovah  manifested 
himself  to  the  children  of  Israel,  and  so  very  sacred 
was  the  place  that  even  the  high  priest  could  go 
therein  only  once  a  year.  There  was  a  certain  de- 
gree of  mystery  about  the  Holy  of  Holies  and  the 
religious  services  and  ceremonies  in  connection 
with  it,  that  even  the  priests  could  not  understand  ; 
and  I  think  that  you  will  acknowledge,  when  we 
have  carefully  Studied  all  that  can  be  learned  about 
this  apartment  of  our  House  Beautiful,  that  it  is 
properly  named  The  Holy  of  Holies,  and  that  it  is 


404 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 


the  most  sacred  part  of  our  body,  and  that  our  de- 
pendence on  our  Creator  should  always  be  in  our 
minds  when  contemplating  it." 

"  But,  Doctor,"  asked  Clarence,  "  is  not  this  idea 
of  a  temple,  a  place  in  which  to  worship  God,  quite 
unlike  any  apartment  in  our  houses  of  to-day  ?" 

"Not  so  much  unlike  them  as  you  may  think  at 
first  sight,"  I  replied  ;  "for  many  large  houses  can 
be  found  where  there  is  a  chapel  built  in  connec- 
tion with  the  house,  in  which  the  family  assembles 
for  family  worship  ;  and  in  very  many  other  houses 
there  is  a  closet  sacred  to  prayer,  where  in  private, 
any  individual  member  may  call  upon  God  for  his 
guidance  and  blessing,  and  ask  him  for  that  new 
life  which  is  everlasting,  and  which,  through  faith, 
is  granted  to  every  earnest  seeker. 

"  Nor  is  it  absolutely  necessary  that  God  should 
be  approached  in  verbal  prayer,  for  very  many 
pious  persons  commune  with  the  Holy  Spirit  with- 
out prayer.  We  are  accustomed  to  attend  church 
where  there  are  singing  and  praying  and  preaching, 
and  for  this  reason  probably  we  get  an  idea  that 
we  must  speak,  or  God  will  not  hear  us  ;  indeed, 
too  many  preachers  yell  as  if  they  thought  God 
was  very  hard  of  hearing ;  but  if  you  could  have 
attended  with  me  the  meetings  of  the  Friends,  or 
Quakers,  you  would  have  been  deeply  impressed 
with  the  reverence  manifested  by  them.  When 
any  one  has  anything  of  importance  to  say,  it  is 
spoken  in  a  very  quiet  manner.  Very  often  they 


THE  BEAUTIFUL. 


405 


have  meetings  where  no  one  speaks,  nor  is  any 
verbal  prayer  offered.  They  believe  that  spirit 
communing  with  spirit  does  not  need  words  ;  and 
very  many  families  have  a  place  where  they  go 
and  sit  for  a  half  hour,  and  in  this  quiet  way  hold 
communion  with  the  Spirit." 

"  But  how  can  you  explain  such  a  way  of  holding 
communion  ?  "  asked  Julia  ;  "  I  'm  sure  I  never  be- 
fore heard  of  anything  like  it." 

"  Very  easily,"  I  replied  ;  "  for  when  you  see  a 
beautiful  sunset,  you  do  not  need  to  speak  about  it 
to  appreciate  its  beauty.  When  you  go  into  the 
presence  of  a  beautiful  painting,  you  can  commune 
with  its  highest  perfection  if  you  have  no  one  with 
whom  to  talk.  You  might  think  that  if  you  had 
some  one  to  talk  with,  you  would  enjoy  the  picture 
more  ;  but  when  you  study  art  —  the  beautiful  — 
more  thoroughly,  you  will  come  to  know  that 
companionship  in  the  study  of  art  pleases  you 
because  it  is  companionship,  not  because  you  more 
highly  appreciate  art.  The  deepest  communion 
with  the  beautiful  and  with  grandeur  is  when 
you  are  alone  with  those  objects  or  works  which 
awaken  the  emotion.  Sit  alone  for  an  hour  in 
the  presence  of  Niagara's  grandeur,  and  hear  her 
mighty  thunders  and  commune  with  her  great 
spirit,  and  you  will  have  a  better  knowledge  of  the 
emotions  of  grandeur,  than  from  a  whole  day  spent 
there  with  joyous  companions.  Sit  .alone  for  an 
hour  in  that  little  room  with  Raphael's  greatest 


406 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 


painting,  the  Sistine  Madonna,  and  commune  with 
his  spirit  of  the  beautiful  as  there  expressed  on 
canvas,  and  you  will  know  more  of  the  true  spirit 
of  the  beautiful  in  art  that  prompts  the  artist  to 
continue  his  toil,  than  you  will  after  spending  days 
in  visiting  art  galleries  with  boon  companions. 

''We  will  find,  I  hope,  that  our  House  Beautiful 
has  an  apartment,  The  Holy  of  Holies,  not  unlike 
this  sacred  precinct,  in  which  a  new  life  is  given 
and  a  new  being  brought  into  existence. 

"We  have  just  reached  that  part  of  the  subject, 
Clarence  and  Julia,"  I  said,  "which  brings  us  face 
to  face  with  the  Creator.  We  should  uncover  our 
heads,  or,  if  need  be,  to  awaken  our  highest  rever- 
ence, do  as  did  Moses,  take  off  the  shoes  from  off 
our  feet,  for  most  certainly  the  subject  which  we 
are  now  to  consider  is  most  holy.  You  have 
already  learned  that  there  must  be  two  elements 
in  the  formation  of  seeds,  the  pollen  of  the  male 
plant  and  the  ovules  of  the  female  plant.  So,  too, 
you  know  that  all  animals  have  two  elements 
which  unite  to  form  the  new  animal ;  and  I  must 
try  now  to  help  you  to  understand  the  great  mys- 
tery of  human  life.  It  seems  singular  to  me  that 
we  can  all  feel  and  understand  how  death  is  a 
great  mystery,  in  whose  presence  we  all  stand 
with  bated  breath,  bowing  our  heads  with  rever- 
ence, while  the  greater  mystery,  the  origin  of  life, 
is  apparently  overlooked." 

"  I  can  very  distinctly  remember,"  said  Clarence, 
•'how  we  were  all  bowed  down  with  reverence  and 


THE  EMBRYO. 


407 


sorrow  when  my  little  brother  died.  It  seemed  as 
if  we  were  in  the  presence  of  God,  because  death 
was  at  our  door  ;  but  when  our  little  puppies  were 
born,  there  was  life,  new  life  in  the  house,  and 
yet  we  felt,  I  think,  no  change.  When  my  little 
brother  was  born,  however,  there  was  quite  a  stir 
in  the  house.  My  father,  I  think,  was  up  all  night, 
and  it  takes  something  to  keep  him  up  all  night. 
It  made  me  think  it  must  be  a  pretty  nice  baby." 

"As  soon  as  the  egg,"  I  continued,  "of  any 
animal  has  commenced  to  make  changes,  which 
indicate  the  development  of  the  life  within  it,  the 
young  is  spoken  of  as  the  embryo'' 

"  But,  Doctor,"  said  Clarence,  "  I  should  like  to 
know  how  they  can  ever  tell  what  takes  place  in 
the  egg  while  it  is  hatching.  Can  they  see  through 
it  ?  Is  it  science  or  guess-work  ?  " 

"  That  is  really  an  important  question,"  I  re- 
plied, "  and  after  I  have  told  •  you  how  the  profess- 
ors do  their  work,  you  may  answer  the  last  part 
of  your  question  yourself.  When  you  think  of  an 
egg>  no  doubt,  it  is  an  egg  with  a  shell  on  it,  but 
you  need  to  remember  that  most  eggs  are  inclosed 
in  a  membrane  almost  transparent  without  a  shell, 
and  ^also  that  the  shell  is  easily  removed  by  a 
chemical  that  eats  away  or  dissolves  the  lime,  and 
then  we  have  left  the  transparent  membrane.  You 
must  not  think,  however,  that  the  facts  of  science 
are  learned  solely  by  looking  through  an  egg 
while  it  is  hatching.  Science  is  not  satisfied  by 
such  imperfect  and  half-wa,v  measures. 


408  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

"  It  takes  three  weeks,  or  twenty-one  days,  for 
the  hen's  eggs  to  hatch.  Let  us  assume  that  we 
want  two  eggs  to  study  each  day  ;  then  we  will 
start  with  forty-two  eggs.  From  some  of  these 
we  will  remove  the  lime  so  as  to  look  through  the 
egg  and  see  the  progressive  formation  of  arteries 
and  veins,  and  later  the  growth  and  development 
of  the  legs  and  wings.  Each  day  we  will  take  an 
egg  and  put  the  growing  part,  or  embryo,  into  a 
dish,  and  cover  it  with  melted  paraphine,  which  is 
just  hard  enough  to  keep  its  form,  and  soft  enough 
to  be  easily  cut  into  slices.  Now  with  a  razor  we 
will  cut  the  paraphine  and  embyro  into  the  thin- 
nest possible  slices,  two  or  three  hundred.  Then 
we  will  place  them  on  very  thin  pieces  of  clear 
glass,  and  look  at  them  with  a  microscope  that 
will  enlarge  them  from  one  thousand  to  five  thou- 
sand times." 

"O  my,"  said  Clarence,  "  can  you  enlarge  them 
so  much  as  five  thousand  times  ?  I  should  think 
you  would  be  able  to  see  every  change  that  takes 
place  in  the  embryo." 

"  Yes,"  I  replied,  "  but  we  might  make  a  mistake, 
and  for  this  reason  we  will  select  the  best  speci- 
mens we  have  prepared,  and  mark  them  with  their 
date,  and  the  particular  part  which  they  show 
to  the  best  advantage,  and  then  during  the  next 
twenty-one  days  use  up  another  forty-two  eggs  in 
observing  the  changes  of  development." 

•"  By  that  time,"  said  Clarence,  "I  should  think 


THE   TEACHING   OF  SCIENCE.  409 

you  would  know  all  about  the  growth  of  chickens." 

"  O  no,  not  at  all,"  I  answered  ;  "  because  some- 
body must  verify,  or  prove,  my  observations  to  be 
correct,  and  this  may  take  months,  and  even  years. 
I  might  get  some  things  right  and  others  wrong." 

"  Is  this  the  way,"  asked  Julia,  "  that  men  of 
science  have  learned  what  you  are  going  to 
tell  us?" 

"  Yes,  Julia,"  I  answered,  "  with  all  the  care 
which  I  have  mentioned,  and  generally  with  many 
other  safeguards  against  mistakes." 

"  Then  I  shall  not  hesitate  a  moment,"  she  said, 
"to  accept  the  teaching  of  science." 

"Neither  will  I,"  said  Clarence;  "  for  I  fully  be- 
lieve it  is  no  guess-work,  but  the  most  genuine 
science  ;  but  I  ain't  sorry  I  asked  the  question  ;  for 
now,  you  see,  by  showing  my  ignorance,  I  got  at 
the  solid  facts  of  one  of  the  ways  of  men  of  science, 
and  I  want  to  know  more  about  their  ways  of  mak- 
ing science,  for  some  day  I'd  like  to  make  some 
myself." 

"  Yes,"  said  Julia,  "  I  expect  some  day  to  see 
your  name  over  a  shop  door  reading,  *  Clarence, 
Manufacturer  of  Science.'" 

A  little  color  came  into  Clarence's  face  as  he  re- 
plied, "  I  did  n't  mean  that  exactly,  but  I  intend  to 
put  some  science  into  my  work,  that  will  show  for 
itself." 

"  So  will  I,"  replied  Julia,  "  for  I  believe  science 
is  a  good  thing." 


4io 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 


"  If  we  could  see,"  I  continued,  "  the  human  em- 
bryo about  the  fifth  week  of  its  development,  and 
look  upon  the  small  of  the  back,  on  the  inside  of 
the  abdomen,  we  would  see  an  object  that  look' 
like  the  two  wings  of  a  pigeon  when  it  darts  dowr* 
ward  in  its  flight.  These  were  discovered  by  Herr 
Wolf,  and  after  him  are  called  Wolffian  bodies. 
These  glandular  bodies  appear  before  the  forma- 
tion of  the  kidneys." 

"  The  kidneys  I  have  heard  about,"  said  Clarence, 
"  but  I  can't  tell  what  they  do  in  the  body.  Would 
you  object  to  telling  us,  Doctor  ?  " 

"Certainly  not,"  I  answered;  "they  separate 
some  of  the  water  from  the  blood,  and  with  it 
some  impurities  or  waste  matter.  The  kidneys, 
like  the  lungs,  help  to  keep  the  blood  free  from  im- 
purities, but  in  a  different  manner." 

"  But,  Doctor,"  said  Julia,  "you  have  not  told  us 
what  the  names  of  the  other  little  bodies  were. 
Do  they  not  have  names  ? " 

"  Yes,  Julia,"  I  answered,  "they  have  names,  but 
we  have  not  yet  followed  them  long  enough  for 
them  to  indicate  by  their  position  how  they  are 
named.  But  I  will  tell  you  at  once  that  we  will 
call  them  The  Holy  of  Holies,  the  most  sacred 
apartment  in  our  bodies,  because  here  is  devel- 
oped the  very  first  beginning  of  life.  The  teacher 
of  physiology  gives  different  names  to  these  little, 
organs,  because  they  differ  in  some  respects  ;  but 
since  we  are  looking  for  the  origin  of  life  and  find  >' 


A   BOY  OR  A    GIRL. 

in  these,  we  will  use  the  same  name  for  both,  and 
the  outer  chamber  where  the  two  elements  unite 
and  form  one  being,  as  I  will  at  once  explain,  w^ 
will  name  the  Holy  Place. 

"  Suppose  we  have  two  embryos  that  we  could 
watch  while  they  were  developing,  and  that  they 
were  of  the  same  age,  and  by  this  I  mean  that 
if  they  were  hen's  eggs,  they  would  hatch  at  the 
same  time.  By  observation  we  learn  that  two 
remained  in  their  places,  and  by  this  we  know 
them  to  be  kidneys,  but  we  should  still  be  in  doubt 
as  to  the  names  of  the  other  two  pairs  that  continue 
to  move  slowly  downward  away  from  the  kidneys. 
Our  interest  in  the  naming  of  these  little  bodies  or 
glands  would  be  greatly  increased  if  we  knew,  as 
does  the  man  of  science,  that  they  determined 
whether  the  embryo  is  to  be  a  boy  or  girl." 

"  Why,  Doctor,  how  is  it  possible  for  such  a  very 
little  gland,"  asked  Julia,  "  to  have  such  great  in- 
fluence ?" 

"  Before  long  we  will  see  how  that  is,"  I  answered  ; 
"  at  the  present  we  must  remember  that  these  lit- 
tle glands  in  both  embryos  are  moving  down- 
ward and  away  from  the  kidneys.  Let  us  say  that 
they  have  got  down  into  the  bony  cavity  known 
as  the  pelvis,  and  here  we  discover  that  in  one 
embryo  the  little  glands  have  become  stationary, 
while  in  the  other  they  continue  to  go  downward 
Now  what  do  you  think,  Clarence,  the  man  o« 
science  would  say?" 


412 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 


"  Well,  I  give  it  up,"  he  said,  "  for  I  can't  really 
think  what  he  would  say  ;  but  I  think  he  would 
say  something,  because  it  is  so  wonderfully  inter- 
esting to  me,  I'm  satisfied  something  should  be 
said." 

"  Well,  if  they  were  human  embryos,"  I  replied, 
"and  the  man  of  science  had  been  watching  them 
with  us,  and  after  about  fifty  days  he  saw  the 
glands  in  one  embryo  stop  and  the  others  go  on, 
he  would  say  one  was  to  be  a  girl  and  the  other  to 
be  a  boy." 

"  O  my  gracious,"  said  Clarence,  jumping  up  and 
slapping  his  hands  together,  "would  he  know  it  so 
soon  as  that  ?  then  I  'm  going  to  be  a  man  of 
science,  aren't  you,  Julia?" 

"  Yes,  indeed  I  am,"  said  Julia,  with  great  ani- 
mation, also  springing  to  her  feet ;  "  because  we  al- 
ways want  to  know  the  exact  truth,  and  I  want  to 
know  now,  Doctor,  which  one  is  to  be  the  girl  and 
which  is  to  be  the  boy." 

"  The  man  of  science  would  say, '  I  replied,  "  that 
the  embryo  in  which  the  glands  stopped  in  the 
pelvis  would  be  a  girl,  and  the  other  would  be  a 
boy.  He  would  know  this,  because  he  had  observed 
other  embryos  develop  and  grow  to  manhood 
and  womanhood.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  glands 
that  stop  in  the  pelvis  continue  to  grow,  and  are 
the  shape  and  size  of  an  almond.  While  they  are 
growing  to  this  size,  the  child  has  reached  twelve 
or  fifteen  years  of  age,  and  a  broad  ligament  has 


THE   POSSIBILITY  OF  MOTHERHOOD. 


413 


been  developed,  which  holds  the  glands  in  position, 
and  they  are  known  to  us  as  The  Holy  of  Holies, 
and  to  the  man  of  science  as  the  ovaries,  because 
in  them  are  developed  the  ovum,  or  egg,  of  the 
human  being." 

"Does  every  little  girl,"  asked  Julia,  "have  two 
of  these  Holy  of  Holies,  and  do  they  have  eggs  in 
them?" 

"Yes,  Julia,"  I  replied,  "it  is  because  every  little 
girl  has  these  Holy  of  Holies,  or  ovaries,  and  a  pos- 
sibility that  the  eggs  from  them  may  develop  into 
human  beings,  that  little  girls  are  held  in  such 
high  esteem  by  everybody.  It  is  because  of  the 
possibility  of  motherhood  that  all  women  are  held 
almost  in  reverence." 

"  But  what  about  the  other  two  glands  ? "  inquired 
Clarence  ;  "  do  n't  they  stop  too  ?  " 

"  There  is  something  very  curious  about  the 
other  two  glands,"  I  replied,  "because  they  climb 
out  of  the  pelvis,  or  bony  cavity,  in  which  the 
ovaries  remain." 

"I  should  fear  they  would  get  lost,"  said  Julia, 
"  if  they  climbed  out ;  because  how  could  they  take 
care  of  themselves  ? " 

"  They  seem  to  have  been  provided  for,"  I  an- 
swered, "by  One  having  superior  wisdom,  for  they 
do  not  get  lost.  They  seem  to  find  an  opening 
between  two  muscles  on  the  front  of  the  abdomen, 
and  here  they  pass  out,  still  holding  fast  to  a  cord 
which  aids  them  in  performing  their  functions  or 

27 


414  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

office  later  in  life.  They  keep  under  the  skin  in 
the  abdomen,  and  pass  down  about  the  eighth 
month  into  a  small  sack  made  especially  to  keep 
them  in  place.  We  speak  of  them  as  The  Holy  of 
Holies,  or  as  testicles,  and  the  sack,  or  pouch,  in 
which  they  reside  is  the  scrotum.  It  sometimes 
happens,  however,  that  they  do  not  go  down  into 
this  sack,  or  scrotum,  but  remain  in  the  abdomen, 
or  under  a  covering  just  below  the  abdomen,  and 
then  the  child  may  be  considered  a  girl,  and  may 
be  twelve  or  fourteen  years  old  before  it  is  dis- 
covered that  it  is  not  like  other  girls,  and  then 
by  a  simple  and  harmless  surgical  operation  it  is 
revealed  that  all  this  time  it  was  a  boy,  whose 
testicles  did  not,  in  infancy,  find  their  way  to 
where  they  properly  belonged.  There  are  some 
facts  about  the  manner  in  which  they  are  made 
which  are  really  wonderful.  Indeed,  it  is  also  very 
wonderful  about  the  ovaries.  These  latter,  you 
remember,  are  small  glands  about  the  size  and 
shape  of  an  almond,  and  the  interior  structure  is 
made  up  very  much  like  other  glands  in  the  body." 

"  But,  Doctor,"  said  Clarence,  "  did  you  explain 
to  us  what  a  gland  is  ?  if  you  did,  I  have  quite 
forgotten,  and  I  ask  because  I  am  so  greatly  in- 
terested in  what  you  are  teaching  that  I  want  to 
be  quite  certain  that  I  understand  the  subject." 

"That  is  right,  Clarence,"  I  replied;  "stop  me 
at  the  end  of  any  sentence,  and  ask  your  questions, 
because  the  object  of  all  teaching  is  to  convey  in- 


THE   OVARIES. 


415 


formation  and  awaken  thought,  and  the  pupil  will 
fail  to  receive  the  greatest  benefit,  if  some  subject 
or  word  is  not  fully  understood.  The  function,  or 
work,  of  a  gland,  as  explained  heretofore,  is  to 
make  something  that  did  not  before  exist  in  the 
economy  of  the  body.  The  salivary  glandsj  for  in- 
stance, secrete  or  make  from  the  blood  which  goes 
to  them,  saliva,  the  liver  makes  the  gall.  The 
kidney,  however,  although  a  separate  organ,  only 
separates  from  the  blood  impurities,  and  is  not  a 
gland.  The  ovaries  are  separate  organs,  and  their 
internal  structure  is  very  much  like  the  glands  ; 
and  yet  it  may  be  said  to  be  an  open  question 
whether  to  call  them  glands  or  not,  for  their  prod- 
uct is  not  used  in  building  up  the  body  like  the 
product  of  other  glands,  but  is  used  in  building  a 
new,  and  eventually  a  separate,  being. 

"The  ovaries  are  two  oval  bodies,  situated  in  the 
broad  ligament,  and  are  made  up  of  a  peculiar,  soft, 
fibrous  tissue.  Imbedded  in  this  tissue  are  numer- 
ous vesicles,  or  sacks,  called  Graafran  vesicles  or 
follicles.  These  sacks  are  nearly  filled  with  a  clear 
fluid,  but  floating  in  it  is  an  ovum,  or  egg.  As  the 
egg  approaches  full  development,  the  sack  contain- 
ing it  works  its  way  to  the  surface  of  the  ovary, 
and  bursts  open  in  such  a  way  as  to  allow  the  egg 
to  escape.  There  are  generally  twenty  or  more  of 
these  eggs  developing  at  the  same  time.  When 
one  escapes,  it  finds  its  way  into  the  Fallopian 
tube,  which  conducts  it  three  or  four  inches  to  a 


416  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

chamber,  the  Holy  Place,  or  uterus,  prepared  es- 
pecially for  its  care  while  it  shall  grow  from  an  egg 
into  an  embryo,  and  become  in  time  a  new  and 
separate  being. 

"  The  testicle,  the  partner  of  the  ovary  in  form- 
ing the  embryo,  is  about  the  same  size,  though  a 
little  larger  and  nearly  the  same  shape  ;  yet  it  is 
quite  different  in  its  make-up,  for  instead  of  con- 
sisting chiefly  of  cells  and  their  combinations,  it  is 
made  up  somewhat  like  the  kidney,  of  more  than 
sixty  thousand  tubes,  and  their  combined  length  is 
more  than  five  thousand  feet.  These  are  folded 
back  and  forth  upon  themselves  so  as  to  occupy 
the  narrow  space  furnished  them  to  the  best  ad- 
vantage. They  are  known  as  the  seminiferous 
tubes.  For  many  hundred  years  there  was  great 
curiosity  and  even  anxiety  to  know  what  the  tes- 
ticle had  to  do  with  human  life.  Very  many  men  of 
science  kept  examining  and  experimenting  to  find 
out,  and  at  last  a  German  student  in  1677  saw  some 
little  moving  bodies  which  were  called  animalcules, 
because  it  was  believed  that  they  had  real  life  and 
grew,  after  being  nourished  in  the  body  of  the 
mother,  into  human  beings.  Suppose,  ClarencCj 
you  had  been  making  a  study  of  the  testicles  for 
months,  and  had  succeeded  so  well  that  you  could 
prove  that  the  very  small  seminiferous  tubes  were, 
as  is  claimed  for  them,  more  than  sixty  thousand 
in  number,  and  that  their  entire  length  was  nearly 
a  mile  ;  and  suppose  that  you  knew  all  the  other 
facts  known  to  the  wisest  investigators  on  this 


A   LIVING   SOMETHING. 

subject,  and  you  were  searching  now  for  something 
new,  something  unknown  to  any  one  ;  and  sup- 
pose that  you  had  secured  from  within  one  of  these 
little  tubes  the  fluid  there  formed,  and  were  exam- 
ining it  with  a  powerful  microscope.  You  see 
something  in  it  that  looks  like  a  cell,  and  while 
you  are  watching  it,  it  bursts  open,  and  there  es- 
capes a  very  minute  living  something.  It  has  a 
small  head  and  a  large  body  with  a  long  tail,  which 
is  constantly  in  motion.  Would  you  not  be  amazed 
and  delighted  beyond  measure  with  your  dis- 
covery ? " 

"  O,  I  think,"  said  Clarence,  "I  should  have  been 
almost  beside  myself  with  joy  at  my  success  ;  for 
such  a  discovery  would  have  made  me  famous 
among  men  of  science." 

"  This  must  have  been  what  happened,"  I  said, 
"with  the  German  student  who  made  the  discovery. 

"  You  may  be  assured  there  was  very  great  inter- 
est awakened  in  the  subject  when  this  discovery 
was  announced,  and  many  men  of  science  began 
searching  for  these  little  moving  creatures,  the  lat- 
est discovery  of  science.  Every  man  of  science 
wanted  to  say  not  only  that  he  had  seen  them,  but 
if  possible  that  he  had  discovered  something  new 
about  them,  or  else  write  in  such  a  way  that  the 
reader  might  have  the  impression  that  the  writer 
knew  all  about  them  long  ago." 

"  I  would  like  to  know,"  said  Clarence,  "  what 
they  saw  to  write  about.  What  is  an  animalcule  ?" 

*'O,  it's  a   little   animal,"  I    replied,    " so   very 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

small  that  it  cannot  be  seen  by  the  eye  unaided 
by  a  magnifying  glass.  For  very  many  years  this 
little  moving  substance  was  believed  to  be  the  em- 
bryo of  the  human  being.  Careful  investigation, 
however,  demonstrated  that  it  could  be  obtained 
only  from  the  fluid  which  was  secreted  on  the  in- 
ner surface  of  these  seminiferous  tubes. 

"  The  secretion  of  the  testicle  is  known  as  semen, 
and  floating  in  it  are  these  little  entities,  or  gran- 
ules, which  continue  to  develop  after  they  get 
out  of  the  seminiferous  tubes.  They  are  inclosed 
in  membrane  like  the  egg,  and  they  pass  from 
the  testicle  up  into  the  body  through  a  narrow 
tube,  and  remain  some  time  developing  in  a  pocket, 
called  by  the  Latin  name  vesiculc?  seminales.  It 
is  generally  believed  that  when  they  reach  this 
pocket,  the  granules  are  undeveloped,  but  that 
gradually  a  change  takes  place,  and  a  seminal  fila- 
.ment  is  developed,  untif  it  appears  as  a  coiled-up 
spermatozoa,  or  spermatozoid,  a  very  large  name  for 
very  little  things  ;  for  they  are  only  one  five-hun- 
dredth of  an  inch  long.  They  appear  very  much  like 
tadpoles,  having  small  heads  on  a  thick  body,  and 
a  very  long,  slim  tail.  They  move  from  place  to 
place  by  the  motion  of  their  tails.  They  are  very 
active,  and  continue  in  motion  as  long  as  they 
have  life.  Like  the  egg  from  the  ovary,  they  are 
conducted  from  their  place  of  origin  or  develop- 
ment through  a  hollow  pipe  or  tube  to  the  cham- 
ber, the  Holy  Place,  or  uterus,  where  the  embryo 
is  developed.  It  is  worthy  of  our  attention  to 


THE  LITTLE   SPERMATOZOIDS. 

know  that  the  Creator,  in  his  infinite  wisdom,  has 
so  arranged  it  that  the  same  hollow  tube  or  pipe 
that  conveys  from  our  body  the  waste  materials 
and  water  which  are  separated  from  the  blood  by 
the  kidneys  and  stored  temporarily  in  the  bladder, 
is  used  to  convey  these  little  spermatozoids,  the 
highest  and  most  sacred  product  of  the  human 
body,  to  their  new  home  where  they  are  to  meet 
their  life-long  partner  and  counterpart,  the  ovum. 
Is  not  this  a  remarkable  lesson,  teaching  that  God 
has  made  every  organ  of  our  bodies  with  equal  de- 
gree of  merit,  and  proving  that  every  member  or 
organ  of  our  bodies  is  made  to  honor  Him  who 
made  and  planned  it  ?  " 

"  How  is  it  possible,"  asked  Clarence,  "  that 
these  little  spermatozoids  should  have  life  enough 
to  move  from  place  to  place,  and  yet  fail  to  be 
separate  beings,  to  grow  and  develop  ? " 

"  That  is  a  very  hard  question  to  answer,"  I  re- 
sponded ;  "  no  one,  as  yet,  has  been  able  to  explain 
satisfactorily  how  it  can  be  that  these  little  beings 
can  move  themselves  about  by  moving  their  tails 
as  they  do,  and  yet  not  really  possess  the  necessary 
vitality  to  make  them  grow.  They  have  been  seen 
to  go  into  the  ovum,  or  egg,  yes,  five  or  six  of  them 
go  into  the  same  egg,  and  yet  the  most  careful 
search  with  a  powerful  microscope  cannot  find  one 
of  them  after  they  have  entered  the  egg." 

"  Why,  Doctor,  you  confuse  me,"  said  Clarence  ; 
"and  as  the  boys  say,  break  me  all  up.  I  can't  un- 
derstand it,  because  it  fs  too  wonderful," 


420  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

"  You  are  not  alone,  Clarence,"  I  replied,  "  in 
your  astonishment,  I  assure  you,  because  every 
one,  almost,  who  studies  this  subject  has  to  go 
through  the  same  astonishment  and  wonder.  I 
have  not  yet  got  out  of  the  same  condition  of  mind. 
It  was  very  easy  to  believe  the  old  theory  that 
these  spermatozoids  were  animalcules  having  life 
of  their  own  ;  for  then  they  simply  entered  the 
egg,  and,  as  it  were,  ate  up  or  absorbed  the  sub- 
stance of  the  egg,  like  food.  This  seemed  to  rec- 
oncile and  explain  everything.  So,  too,  when  it 
was  fully  established  that  they  were  not  animal- 
cules, then  one  could  say  that  it  was  a  holy  mar- 
riage, and  one  new  being  came  from  joining  two 
germs,  one  from  the  father  and  one  from  the 
mother  ;  but  even  this  explanation  now  will  not 
answer,  and  we  are  forced  to  say  that  it  seems 
that  the  mother  furnishes  the  elements  in  the  egg 
to  make  cells,  and  that  the  father  furnishes,  in  the 
spermatozoids,  the  elements  to  make  the  egg  sub- 
stance turn  into,  or  grow  into,  cells,  and  to  keep 
multiplying  themselves  continually  until  the  cells 
unite  in  making  organs,  which  grow  by  the  same 
processes  into  what  we  see  as  hands  and  feet,  etc." 

"Well,  it  is  almost  too  wonderful  for  me,"  said 
Julia,  with  a  sigh.  "  I  do  n't  see  how  the  egg  com- 
mences to  make  any  changes.  How  can  it  grow  or 
do  anything  ? " 

"Yes,  Julia,"  I  said,  "to  get  the  egg  started  to 
grow  or  do  anything  is  the  hardest  thing  to  under- 


CELL  DEVELOPMENT. 

stand.  The  most  scientific  cannot  explain  this 
first  step." 

"  I  suppose  we  will  just  have  to  say,"  said  Clar- 
ence, "  that  God  does  it,  and  give  up  the  idea  of 
knowing  how  he  does  it." 

"  Yes,  that  is  what  all  good  men  of  science  have 
been  forced  to  say,"  I  replied,  "  and  we  can  do  no 
better  than  follow  their  example.  But  we  do  know 
this  much,  that  the  egg  by  itself  will  do  nothing, 
and  that  it  is  not  until  after  the  little  spermato- 
zoids  have  entered  it  that  the  changes  begin  to 
take  place,  which  we  call  development.  We  can- 
not tell  how  it  is,  or  why  it  is,  but  it  has  often  been 
observed  that  in  the  egg  there  is  a  very  little  spot 
that  has  the  power  of  change  or  growth  ;  this  can 
be  seen  to  divide  itself,  and  then  we  have  two  cells, 
and  each  of  these  soon  divides,  and  then  we  have 
four  cells,  and  in  this  way  they  keep  increasing  in 
numbers  continually.  At  first  these  cells  are  all 
soft  and  almost  transparent,  like  the  white  of  an 
egg»  but  in  time  they  change  in  character,  and 
many  of  them  uniting  together  make  muscle,  and 
others  make  bones,  and  still  others  make  hair,  and 
so  on." 

"  Why,  how  very  wonderful  it  is  that  these  cells 
that  you  speak  of,"  said  Clarence,  "  should  change 
from  a  substance  so  soft  as  the  white  of  an  egg  to 
a  stout  muscle  or  a  hard  bone,  or  a  limber  hair. 
To  me,  this  seems  quite  impossible,  and  yet  it 
must  change  in  that  way,  or  else  how  could  an 


422 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 


animal  ever  come  from  an  egg?  Do  n't  you  think, 
Julia,  that  this  is  wonderfully  interesting  ?  I  never 
read  any  fairy  tale  that  was  so  interesting." 

"  Yes,"  said  Julia,  "  I  have  been  very  deeply  in- 
terested, and  it  seems  to  me  that  these  changes  of 
the  cells  which  the  Doctor  speaks  of,  again  remind 
us  that  we  are  in  the  presence  of  God,  for  he  alone 
makes  such  changes." 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  hear,  Julia,"  I  responded, 
"that  you  agree  perfectly  with  the  wisest  and  most 
saintly  men  and  women  who  have  studied  the  ori- 
gin of  human  beings.  You  need,  indeed,  we  all 
need,  to  remember  that  every  cell  in  every  muscle 
and  bone  and  hair  and  nerve  is  endowed  with  the 
power  to  select  from  the  blood  that  with  which  it 
is  nourished  ;  just  such  material  as  will  build  it  up. 
I  mean  by  this  that  the  bone  cell  gets  the  neces- 
sary amount  of  lime  to  make  it  hard  and  stiff,  and 
the  muscle  cell  gets  what  will  make  it  stout  and 
tough,  and  so  on  through  every  kind  of  cell  in  the 
body.  None  of  them  ever  makes  a  mistake  ;  if  they 
did,  the  bones  would  get  soft,  and  we  could  not 
stand  erect,  or  the  muscles  would  get  stiff  like 
bone,  and  we  could  not  move  them  ;  so  that  we 
may  say  God  is  present  in  our  lives  every  mo- 
ment." 

"  I  am  very  glad,"  replied  Julia,  "  if  I  am  getting 
correct  ideas  on  this  subject,  but  I  cannot  as  yet 
fully  understand  where  these  changes  take  place/' 


THE  HOLY  PLACE. 


423 


"  It  would  be  well  to  take  a  partial  review,"  I 
answered.  "  We  know  now  that  the  mother  fur- 
nishes the  ovum,  or  egg,  and  that  it  is  developed 
in  The  Holy  of  Holies,  —  one  of  the  ovaries  ;  that 
there  are  two  of  these,  one  on  each  side  of  the 
central  line  of  the  back,  and  that  a  small  pipe  or 
tube  conducts  the  egg  to  its  new  home,  the  Holy 
Place.  The  father  furnishes  the  spermatozoids 
which  are  developed  in  The  Holy  of  Holies  on  the 
inner  surface  of  the  spermatic  tubes  in  the  testicle, 
and  are  conducted  by  a  hollow  tube  or  pipe  to  the 
Holy  Place,  the  new  home  of  the  ovum,  and  here 
they  unite  or  combine  and  form  the  embryo.  The 
home  of  the  embryo  is  known  as  the  Holy  Place, 
or  the  uterus,  and  is  located  in  the  pelvis  of  the 
mother.  The  uterus,  which  is  hollow,  and  about 
the  size  of  an  ordinary  pear,  should  be  called  the 
Holy  Place  if  we  call  the  testicles  and  ovaries 
The  Holy  of  Holies  ;  for  like  the  latter,  it  is  very 
sacred,  because  in  it  the  egg  is  changed  into  the 
embryo,  and  here  it  grows  until  it  becomes  a  little 
child." 

"  But  how  does  it  get  anything  to  make  it  grow  ? " 
inquired  Julia  ;  "  I  could  understand  how  it  could 
grow  if  it  could  eat  and  had  something  to  eat,  but 
this  you  have  not  explained." 

"  Quite  true,  Julia,"  said  I  ;  "  but  I  told  you  that 
cells  absorbed  their  food  from  some  fluid,  and  I 
need  now  only  add,  that  as  soon  as  the  egg  gets 


424 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 


into  its  new  home,  a  covering  from  the  walls  of  the 
uterus  is  thrown  around  it  and  at  one  point,  on  one 
side,  a  cord  is  formed  from  the  wall  or  inside  of  the 
uterus  to  the  embryo,  and  within  this  cord  is  found 
an  artery  and  a  vein  which  take  the  mother's  blood 
to  the  embryo  and  back  again  to  the  mother,  so 
that  the  embryo  grows  upon  the  mother's  blood, 
to  be  her  child.  All  the  time  that  the  embryo  is 
developing  to  be  a  child,  the  uterus  is  filled  with  a 
fluid  like  water,  so  tha*t  the  embryo  is  floating  in 
water,  to  protect  it  from  an.y  injury  by  a  sudden 
jolt  or  stroke.  So  carefully  has  Providence  pro- 
tected the  young,  that  one  who  studies  nature 
must  be  filled  with  admiration  for  his  goodness." 

"  I  have  been  waiting  for  some  time,"  said  Julia, 
"to  ask  you,  How  large  was  I  when  I  first  was?" 

"  If  we  say  that  you  first  existed  when  those  very 
small  spermatozoids  entered  the  egg,"  I  answered, 
"then  you  were  about  one  three-thousandth  of  an 
inch  in  diameter.  Look  at  this  rule,  and  observe 
how  long  an  inch  is,  and  try  to  imagine  that  three 
thousand  little  points  just  filled  it  from  line  to  line  ; 
one  of  these  points,  so  very  small  that  it  could  only 
be  seen  by  a  strong  microscope,  would  represent 
your  size." 

"Well,  if  I  was  so  small  as  that,"  said  Julia,  "I 
am  surprised  that  I  did  not  get  lost." 

"  Truly,  Julia,"  said  I,  "  it  is  a  great  wonder  that 
we  all  did  not  get  lost  long  before  we  were  born. 
Every  child  should  look  upon  its  mother  with 


IT  IS  STILL  HER  BABY. 

unbounded  admiration  and  lasting  affection,  for 
within  her  body  in  this  Holy  Place,  each  one  has 
developed  from  a  little  minute  egg,  until  it  was  a 
little  child  large  enough  to  live  outside  her  body. 
She  furnished  her  own  blood  upon  which  the  child 
grew,  and  kept  it  warm  and  nourished  it  for  almost 
a  year  before  it  belonged  to  any  one  else,  and  be- 
fore it  was  large  enough  to  live  in  the  open  air. 
All  this  time  she  is  thinking  of  it  and  caring  for  it 
and  praying  for  it.  She  is  continually  guarding  its 
interests  and  planning  for  it  to  come  into  the  world. 
She  makes  for  it  little  clothes,  and  carefully  lays 
them  away  until  the  doors  of  the  Holy  Place  shall 
be  opened,  and  the  child  shall  come  into  the  world, 
and  often,  too,  with  much  pain  and  anguish  to  the 
mother.  Then  after  it  is  born,  it  is  still  her  baby 
more  than  any  one  else's,  because  she  furnishes  it 
the  milk  upon  which  it  lives,  and  while  it  rests  in 
her  arms,  she  forgets  all  that  she  has  suffered  in 
bringing  it  into  the  world." 

"Do  you  think,  Doctor,"  said  Julia,  "that  my 
mother  did  all  this  for  me,  and  suffered  pain  when 
I  came  into  the  world  ?  It  never  occurred  to  me 
that  all  mothers  did  so  much  for  their  children, 
and  I  shall  love  my  mother  more  than  ever,  since 
you  have  told  me  this." 

"  How  very  fortunate  it  would  be  for  all  mothers 
and  all  children,"  I  replied,  "  if  they  understood 
this  subject  as  well  as  you  do,  Julia,  and  gave  ex- 
pression to  their  goodness  by  loving  each  other." 


426  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

"  I  never  heard  all  that  you  have  been  teaching 
us,  Doctor,"  said  Clarence,  "  and  I  am  certain  that 
I  shall  always  hold  my  mother  in  my  affections  with 
more  joy  than  ever  before.  One  can  hardly  know 
how  much  a  mother  has  done  for  him.  I  always 
knew  that  my  mother  had  done  very  much  for  me, 
and  so,  too,  had  my  father,  but  how  could  I  know 
how  much  my  mother  had  done  for  me  before  I  was 
born,  if  some  one  did  not  tell  me  ?  I  certainly 
could  not  remember  it,  for  I  can't  ever  remember 
of  being  born.  I  am  certainly  very  much  obliged 
to  you,  Doctor,  for  all  you  have  taught  us  about 
the  first  of  our  existence.  I'm  sure  nothing  that 
ever  I  heard  before  this,  on  any  subject,  was  so 
very  interesting,  and  I  think  it  would  be  interest- 
ing to  all  children  if  they  had  you  to  tell  it  to 
them.  But  what  more  have  you  to  teach  us  ? " 

"  If  you  open  to  the  first  book  of  the  Bible,"  I  re- 
plied, "  you  read  the  account  of  the  creation,  and 
there  we  are  taught  that  God  made  man  in  his  own 
image.  Just  what  is  the  meaning  of  making  man 
in  his  own  image,  has  not  been  fully  explained. 
Some  have  said  man  was  in  the  image  of  God,  be- 
cause he  did  not  go  on  four  legs  like  the  horse, 
with  his  head  in  advance  of  his  body,  but  upright 
on  two  legs,  with  his  head  over  his  body.  Others 
have  said  that  man  was  Godlike  because  he  could 
think  and  reason,  and  thus  gain  much  useful  knowl- 
edge. But  it  seems  to  me  that  man  is  like  God  and 
In  the  image  of  his  Creator  because  he  can  become 


MAN  HIGHER  THAN  THE  ANGELS. 


427 


the  father  of  a  new  human  being,  a  thinking,  rea- 
soning, immortal,  spiritual  being.  There  is  no 
other  being  upon  whom  God  has  conferred  this 
power,  and  it  seems  to  me  that  it  is  the  divinest 
gift  in  his  nature.  It  has  been  said  that  God  made 
man  a  little  lower  than  the  angels,  but  since  man 
can  be  the  author  or  creator  of  a  new  being,  I  think 
we  are  justified  in  saying  that  man  is  a  little  higher 
than  the  angels  ;  for  we  are  nowhere  taught  that 
angels  have  this  power.  How  very  careful,  then, 
should  man  be  that  this  power  is  well  guarded,  and 
never  destroyed  by  any  act  of  his  own.  To  illus- 
trate what  I  mean,  let  us  suppose  that  God  had 
given  to  the  watch-maker  the  power  to  make  a 
watch  that  could  repeat  itself." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Julia,  "that  the 
watch  which  he  made  should  lay  a  little  watch-egg, 
and  that  it  should,  in  time,  become  a  watch  ?." 

"That  must  be  the  Doctor's  idea, "said  Clarence, 
"and  I'm  willing  to  agree  with  you  that  it  would 
give  great  satisfaction  to  the  children,  and  I  might 
add  the  women,  too,  for  I  once  read  of  a  very  skill- 
ful Frenchman  who  made  a  watch  as  a  setting  on 
a  finger  ring  for  a  lady,  and  she  was  very  proud  of 
it,  and  I  think  I  would  be  proud,  too,  if  I  had  such 
a  ring." 

"  You  are  quite  proud  enough  without  the  ring, 
I  think,"  said  Julia,  "  and  yet  would  it  not  be  jolly 
to  have  ever  and  ever  so  many  little  watches  grow- 
ing up  along  with  the  children,  so  that  almost  every 


428  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

child  could  have  a  watch  ?  I  believe  I  would  rather 
have  this  plan  of  watch-eggs  than  the  Doctor's 
former  suggestion  of  having  little  house-eggs." 

"It  is  not  my  intention,"  I  continued,  "to  call  to 
your  consideration  the  idea  of  little  watches,  but 
rather  to  fix  your  attention  on  the  power  that 
makes  the  watch  keep  time,  or  go.  You  see  this 
watch  spring  (taking  one  from  my  pocket)  can  be 
straightened  out  full  length  like  this,  and  yet  as 
soon  as  released  from  my  fingers,  it  flies  back  to  its 
original  form,  and  so,  too,  if  I  compress  it  tight  to- 
gether and  again  release  it,  back  it  springs  to  its 
original  form.  What  is  it,  Clarence,  that  gives  the 
spring  this  power  ?  Can  you  explain  it  ?" 

"It  is  something  in  the  spring,  but  I  can't  tell 
what,  nor  can  I  explain  it,"  said  Clarence. 

"  Can  you  tell  me,  Clarence,"  I  asked,  "  what  the 
watch  spring  does  ?" 

"  O  yes,  I  think  I  understand  that  very  well,"  he 
answered;  "because  I  have  seen  a  watch  taken 
apart,  and  heard  the  watch-maker  explain  the 
value  of  the  spring.  It  is  the  power  which  makes 
the  wheels  inside  of  the  watch  turn  round,  and 
these  move  the  hands,  which  indicate  the  time  on 
the  face  of  the  watch.  Without  the  spring,  there 
would  be  no  movement  of  the  wheels,  and  of  course 
no  time  indicated.  One  might  say  that  the  spring 
was  the  life  of  the  watch,  and  yet  I  cannot  tell 
what  it  is  in  the  spring  that  gives  to  it  this  ap- 
parent life  element." 


CHAPTER     V. 

THE   GENETIC   POWER. 

"THEN  I  must  inform  you,"  said  I, "that  it  is  not 
such  a  something  that  makes  the  springs  larger  or 
smaller,  or  to  weigh  more  or  less,  and  yet  it  is  a 
something  that  can  be  taken  from  it.  When  the 
spring  is  made,  it  is  heated  very  hot,  and  then 
cooled  very  suddenly,  as  by  throwing  it  into  cold 
water  or  cold  oil,  and  this  fixes  in  the  spring  what 
we  may  call  its  elasticity,  or  temper,  or  its  spring 
qualities.  If  now  we  heat  it  very  hot,  and  let  it 
cool  very  slowly,  then,  although  it  will  have  the 
same  size  and  form,  yet  there  will  be  no  spring  in 
it.  It  will  be  utterly  useless  for  the  purposes  for 
which  it  was  intended.  Now  while  this  fact  is  well 
known,  no  one  yet  has  discovered  what  the  change 
is  which  makes  the  piece  of  steel  have  this  deter- 
mined power  to  return  to  its  normal  position. 
This  power,  which  makes  man  in  the  image  of  his 
Creator,  this  genetic  power,  as  it  is  called,  is  very 
much  like  the  spring  or  elasticity  of  the  watch 
spring,  and  it  may  be  lost  or  destroyed  by  man's 
imprudence.  It  is  worthy  of  remark  that  the  Bible 
speaks  very  pointedly  on  this  subject,  where  in 

28  (429) 


43 O  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

speaking  of  Anan,  it  says  God  slew  him  because 
of  his  sin  in  abusing  this  genetic  power  which  had 
been  given  him  for  a  specific  purpose.  From  this 
we  should  learn  that  abusing  this  power  leads  to 
destruction  ;  for  we  are  not  to  learn  from  the  text 
in  the  Bible  that  God  slew  this  particular  man  by 
an  immediate  act,  but  that  having  violated  a  fixed 
law  of  his  body,  he  suffered  this  penalty  of  death, 
and  that  every  boy  and  girl,  man  and  woman,  vio- 
lating the  law,  must  suffer  the  penalty  of  partial  or 
complete  death.  This  genetic  power  gives  to  man 
his  courage  and  desire  for  activity,  his  cheerfulness 
and  hopefulness,  his  fondness  for  society,  and  his 
love  of  mankind.  The  external  organs,  those 
which  constitute  the  doorway  to  The  Holy  of 
Holies,  should  never  be  roughly  handled,  should 
never  be  subjected,  to  friction  or  rubbing;  because 
this  may  cause  the  loss  of  the  life-giving  fluid, 
which  is  so  necessary  to  true  manhood.  Look  at 
the  apple  blossom  just  as  it  is  in  the  beautiful  bud, 
almost  ready  to  open.  Suppose  that  you  should 
try  to  force  it  open  with  your  fingers  ;  you  would 
destroy  the  bud  and  the  flowers,  and  also  the 
future  fruit.  And  it  is  the  same  with  children  and 
young  persons  if  they  abuse  the  genetic  power. 
Not  only  may  they  fail  to  have  children  when 
they  are  grown  up,  but  they  may  become  sick  with 
very  annoying  nervous  diseases,  which,  in  time, 
may  make  them  discouraged  and  crazy,  and  make 
them  die  in  misery." 

"  I  remember  one  boy  at  school,"  said  Clarence, 


SHE   TOOK'  ME    ON  HER   LAP.  ^l 

"who  was  not  right  because  of  evil  practices.  He 
left  school,  and  some  months  later  he  was  sent  to 
the  insane  asylum  ;  and  it  made  me  make  up  my 
mind  that  I  should  never  do  anything* to  injure 
myself,  for  I  think  it  would  be  almost  like  death  to 
grow  to  manhood,  and  then  not  be  man  enough  to 
have  children  like  other  men." 

"  You  are  right,  Clarence,"  said  I,  "  to  think  it 
would  be  like  death  ;  and  it  would  be  well  if  every 
boy  and  girl  were  of  your  opinion,  and  would  live 
up  to  your  high  resolve.  I  am  very  much  pleased 
to  learn  that  you  have  correct  ideas  on  this  subject, 
and  I  am  ready  to  believe  that  many  children  have 
been  well  taught,  and  yet  I  am  quite  certain  that 
very  many  children  need  careful  teaching  on  this 
subject,  by  their  teachers  and  their  parents.  Some 
parents,  I  regret  to  say,  seem  to  fear  this  subject, 
and  cannot  talk  to.  their  children,  while  others  think 
the  children  cannot  understand  it." 

"  If  you  could  have  heard  my  mother,  Doctor," 
said  Julia,  "  I  think  you  would  have  been  pleased. 
She  took  me  on  her  lap,  and  although  she  did  not 
tell  me  all  about  what  the  men  of  science  said,  nor 
give  the  illustrations  that  you  mention,  nor  make 
the  lesson  so  beautiful,  yet  she  told  me  very  much 
that  to  me  was  new,  and  gave  me  suggestions 
which  have  been  very  helpful ;  and  every  day  I 
feel  like  taking  her  in  my  arms,  as  I  did  then,  and 
giving  her  a  good  hug  and  a  kiss  or  two  because 
she  had  done  so  much  for  me  all  my  life  and  before 
I  was  born.  I  tell  her  she  is  my  good  angel." 


432  THE  HOLtf  OF  HOLIES. 

"  Happy  should  be  every  child,  Julia,"  said  I, 
"who  has  such  a  good  angel  for  its  mother.  The 
child  who  has  received  its  first  instruction  concern- 
ing the  origin  of  life  from  its  mother's  lips  will  not 
be  apt  to  indulge  in  coarse  jests  concerning  moth- 
erhood. The  boy  who  has  heard  his  mother  talk 
seriously  and  reverently  concerning  maternity, 
and  from  her  has  gained  his  first  knowledge  in 
a  simple  story  of  her  experience  of  the  birth  of 
a  new  life,  will  never  be  able  to  look  upon  the 
expectant  mother  with  feelings  other  than  those 
of  great  respect  and  a  desire  to  protect  and  de- 
fend her." 

"  My  mother,"  said  Clarence,  "  has  often  talked 
to  me  upon  these  subjects,  and  so,  too,  has  my 
father.  But  not  being  a  doctor,  he  could  not  ex- 
plain things  as  you  have  been  doing,  and  yet  he 
cautioned  me  about  many  things,  and  said  I  should 
avoid  talking  with  rude  boys  and  men,  and  that  I 
need  not  be  giving  myself  needless  anxiety,  for 
nature  would  take  care  of  her  own,  if  I  keep  free 
from  dangers." 

"You  are  then  prepared  for  more  definite  in- 
struction concerning  yourself,"  I  answered  ;  "  for  as 
you  grow  older,  there  will  come  changes  both  in 
your  physical  and  nervous  system,  and  most  likely 
in  your  moral  nature  also.  When  you  are  about 
thirteen  or  fifteen  years  of  age,  you  will  grow  more 
rapidly  for  a  time,  growing  taller  and  stouter.  You 
will  discover  that  something  of  a  change  takes 
place  in  your  desires  and  appetites.  You  will  ex- 


WE  NEED   GOOD  FOOD.  433 

perience  feelings  and  emotions  which  are  new  to 
you.  It  will  not  be  so  easy  for  you  to  control 
yourself.  You  will  then  be  passing  through  an 
important  crisis  ;  the  passage  from  boyhood  to 
manhood,  known  as  puberty.  The  organs  which 
we  have  been  considering  as  intimately  related 
to  the  origin  of  life,  will  increase  in  size  more 
rapidly,  and  hair  will  grow  upon  the  body,  and 
your  voice  will  change  so  that  you  cannot,  at  all 
times,  control  it,  and  by  these  signs  you  will  know 
that  you  are  passing  through  a  process  of  develop- 
ment that  will  confer  upon  you  those  powers  which 
in  years  to  come  are  to  enable  you  to  become  a 
husband  and  a  father,  and  should  only  be  used 
after  marriage,  and  even  then  with  moderation. 
The  future  happiness  and  health  of  every  man  de- 
pend very  largely  upon  the  manner  in  which  he 
passes  from  boyhood  to  manhood. 

"  At  this  time  of  life  in  both  boys  and  girls,  any 
excitement,  like  parties,  theatres,  and  balls,  taxes 
the  nervous  system,  and  is  very  apt  to  be  injuri- 
ous. So,  too,  are  contests  at  school,  and  trying 
examinations.  They  all  tend  to  hasten  the  activi- 
ties which  quicken  the  changes  of  puberty.  It  is 
far  better  physically  and  morally  for  you  that  this 
change  should  be  in  no  way  hastened.  Let  nature 
have  her  perfect  time.  There  are  some  things  which 
disturb  the  system  when  -present  in  the  food,  such 
as  pepper,  mustard,  spices,  and  condiments  gener- 
ally. Such  articles  can  hardly  be  classed  as  food, 
and  you  would  be  better  without  them," 


434  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

"  How  about  tea  and  coffee  ?"  asked  Julia.  "  Do 
you  think  they  are  useful  articles  of  food  ?" 

"I  wish  that  their  use,"  I  replied,  " could  be 
commended.  I  know  that  very  many  parents  who 
are  fond  of  tea  and  coffee  cannot  deny  them  to 
their  children.  But  as  a  true  teacher  I  must  say 
they  are  objectionable,  and  ultimately  very  injuri- 
ous. So,  too,  the  young-  may  get  into  the  habit  of 
eating  too  much  meat,  which  is  a  stimulating  diet. 
If  parents  would  thoughtfully  provide  carefully- 
cooked  oat-meal,  unbolted  wheat-flour,  and  vege- 
tables, and  at  the  same  time  furnish  plenty  of  fruit, 
the  children  and  young  people  would  not  be  so 
ready  to  use  anything  objectionable.  Such  care- 
ful feeding  would,  in  many  youths,  retard  develop- 
ment to  the  advantage  of  all  interested.  It  must 
be  remembered  that  at  this  time  of  life  the  young 
must  be  generously  supplied  with  the  best  food. 

"While  these  physical  powers  are  being  con- 
ferred upon  you,  they  should  not  be  used.  The 
youth  does  not  try  to  raise  whiskers  as  soon  as  a 
few  downy  hairs  appear  on  his  chin.  You  should 
remember  that  these  powers  do  not  reach  their 
normal  development  until  the  boy  has  become  a 
man.  You  should  always  remember  that  an  un- 
wise or  too  early  use  of  these  powers  will  be  ex- 
haustive of  your  vitality  and  health,  and  may 
lessen  the  chances  of  your  future  children  for  vigor 
and  strength.  The  bud  foretells  the  rose,  but  nat- 
ure's process  must  not  be  interrupted,  and  time  is 
required  to  develop  naturally  a  beautiful  flower. 


SYMPATHY  FOR    THE  BOYS. 

It  is  much  the  same  with  these  powers  ;  for  during 
their  time  of  development,  they  are  to  true  man- 
hood what  the  bud  is  to  the  rose.  These  feelings 
of  unrest  and  irritation  and  almost  of  perversity 
which  you  may  experience  from  time  to  time,  you 
should  understand  as  the  expressions  of  efforts  on 
the  part  of  your  organization  to  adapt  itself  to  new 
conditions.  Cultivate  patience  with  yourself  and 
with  your  neighbor,  and  you  will  be  better  able 
to  await  with  composure  your  own  development. 
You  should  think  of  yourself  as  being  prepared  by 
your  Creator  for  a  great  responsibility  which  you 
cannot  avoid,  and  which  you  should  accept  with 
humility  and  reverence.  It  will  be  very  fortunate 
for  you,  if  while  passing  through  this  crisis  you 
have  teachers  who  comprehend  the  importance 
and  responsibility  of  their  charge, —  teachers  who 
know  that  boys  from  thirteen  to  twenty  are  dis- 
turbed by  changes  taking  place  in  their  physical 
natures,  which  influence  their  emotional  and  moral 
natures  almost  beyond  their  own  control.  Such 
teachers  will  have  sympathy  with  the  boys,  and 
will  converse  with  them  in  such  a  kindly  way  as  to 
aid  the  boys  in  learning  to  govern  themselves  ;  for 
it  should  be  kept  constantly  in  mind  by  parents, 
teachers,  and  youths  that  the  child  which  has  been 
governed  by  its  parents  is  now  passing  through 
changes  which,  when  completed,  will  place  the 
child  developed  under  its  own  control.  It  is  of 
the  utmost  importance  that  all  youths  should  try 
to  acquire  such  control  over  their  desires  and  ap- 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

petites  and  passions  as  will  enable  them  to  become 
self-poised  men  and  women  who  will  be  a  credit 
to  their  parents  and  a  blessing  to  society." 

"But,  Doctor,"  asked  Julia,  "what  have  you  to 
say  for  me  on  this  subject  ?  Are  not  girls  of  in- 
terest at  such  a  time  of  life  ?  " 

"Indeed  they  are,"  I  answered.  "The  girl  at 
puberty  needs,  also,  wise  counsel.  The  change 
which  takes  place  in  her  physical  organization  is 
more  generally  understood  than  that  which  takes 
place  in  the  boy.  Parents,  friends,  and  teachers 
recognize  the  fact  that  at  this  period  of  life,  the 
girl  must  receive  more  consideration.  The  change 
manifested  in  her  physical  organization  is  in  itself 
no  greater  than  that  of  the  boy.  But  from  the  fact 
that  its  external  signs  are  more  manifest,  it  is  more 
generally  understood.  The  mother  is  exceedingly 
anxious  that  the  girl  should  develop  into  a  woman 
normally  and  without  great  disturbance  to  the 
nervous  system.  Therefore  she  is  ready  to  grant 
that  the  girl's  lassitude  may  not  be  absolutely  lazi- 
ness ;  that  her  irritability  and  tendency  to  cry, 
upon  the  least  provocation,  may  not  be  altogether 
reprehensible,  but  due  to  physical  conditions. 
The  girl  is  watched  with  much  anxiety  ;  but  too 
seldom  is  she  instructed  wisely.  The  girl  should 
be  made  fully  aware  of  the  physical  changes  which 
are  taking  place,  and  .should  understand  all  that 
they  portend.  There  is  good  reason  why  the  girl 
should  be  accurately  instructed  concerning  those 
organs  which  constitute  her  reproductive  system. 


GIRLS  BREATHE  ALIKE. 

If  she  sees  in  charts  or  by  means  of  diagrams,  the 
relation  of  the  pelvic  organs  to  the  abdominal 
organs,  and  realizes  how  tight  clothing  may  dis- 
place the  organs  both  of  the  abdomen  and  pelvis, 
she  will  be  more  easily  influenced  to  the  wearing 
of  loose  and  healthful  clothing. 

"  The  ablest  teachers,  both  men  and  women,  are 
giving  some  thought  to  the  present  mode  of  dress 
among  women,  and  it  would  be  well  for  you  to  un- 
derstand this  while  you  are  young,  and  before  you 
have  adopted  corsets.  Some  think  they  are  nec- 
essary for  all  women,  but  this  is  a  mistake  ;  for 
thousands  of  women  never  use  them." 

"  But  why,"  asked  Julia,  "  are  they  objection- 
able ? " 

"  Because  they  are  harmful,"  I  replied.  "  Young 
boys  and  girls  breathe  in  the  same  manner,  but  as 
soon  as  corsets  are  put  on  the  girls,  they  begin  to 
breathe  in  a  different  manner,  because  the  binding 
pressure  of  the  corset  prevents  the  free  use  of  the 
lungs.  The  boys  and  girls  without  corsets  will 
continue  to  use  the  abdominal  muscles  when 
breathing,  while  the  girls  with  corsets  will  use 
only  the  upper  part  of  the  lungs.  The  former  is 
called  abdominal,  and  the  latter  costal  breathing." 

"But,  Doctor,"  said  Julia,  "do  not  some  physi- 
cians say  that  corsets  are  useful  ?  " 

"Yes,"  I  replied,  "those  old  physicians  who  have 
formed  their  opinions  from  the  women  of  fashion, 
and  who  never  thoroughly  investigate  such  a  ques- 
tion. But  the  younger  men  of  science,  thorough 


COSTAL.  Fig.  i.    Man.  ABDOMINAL. 


COSTAL.  ABDOMINAL. 

Fig.  2.     Civilized  Woman  (unmarried,  age  33  years). 


COSTAL.  Fig.  3.    Chinese  Woman.  ABDOMINAL. 


COSTAL.  Fig.  4.    Indian  Man  (Chickasaw).  ABDOMINAL. 


COSTAL.  Fig.  5.     Indian  Woman  (Chickasaw).  ABDOMINAL. 


COSTAL.  Fig.  6.     Chippeway  Indian  Won^an,        ABDOMINAL. 


BREATHING   CHANGED  BY  CORSETS.         439 

investigators,  are  showing  the  errors  of  such  teach- 
ing. Dr.  Mays  of  Philadelphia  devised  the  pneu- 
mograph,  an  instrument  for  showing  whether  a  per- 
son uses  the  costal  or  abdominal  mode  of  breathing. 

"  If,  now,  we  could  show  that  women  who  never 
wore  corsets  breathe  with  the*  abdominal  muscles 
like  men  and  children,  and  only  women  who  use 
corsets  and  stays  use  the  costal  mode  of  breathing, 
then  we  would  be  safe  in  saying  that  the  corsets 
and  stays  caused  the  women  to  change  from  the 
abdominal  mode,  which  they  used  before  they  wore 
corsets,  to  the  costal  mode  of  breathing." 

*'  If  that  can  be  shown,"  said  Julia,  "  I  think  every 
one  will  adopt  your  opinion." 

"  Let  us  try  the  instrument  on  a  healthy  man," 
said  I,  "  and  see  what  results  we  will  get  when  he 
is  breathing  naturally.  Look  at  Fig.  I,  and  you 
will  see  that  the  line,  almost  without  a  curve,  in- 
dicates that  the  chest  walls  remain  almost  quiet, 
while  the  curved  line  which  follows,  indicates  that 
the  abdominal  muscles  are  at  work  lifting  the  walls 
of  the  abdomen  out  and  in.  Fig.  2  shows  how  the 
instrument  records  the  costal  and  abdominal  move- 
ments of  a  woman  who  has  been  subjected  to  tight- 
lacing  for  eight  years.  The  abdominal  muscles  in 
this  case  have  nothing  to  do,  as  is  indicated  by  a 
straight  line.* 


*  Having  secured  these  tracings,  Dr.  Kellogg  tried  the  instrument 
upon  Chinese  and  Indian  women  with  a  result  that  should  convince 
all  reasonable  persons  of  the  injurious  effects  of  corsets.  We  are  in- 
debted to  Dr.  Kellogg  for  the  use  of  these  cuts. 


COSTAL.  ABDOMINAL. 

Fig.  7.     A  Scotch  Woman  (age  45,  unmarried). 


COSTAL.        Fig.  8.    Reformed  Corset-wearer  (ordinary  respiration).     ABDOMINAL. 


COSTAL.  Fig.  9.     Reformed  Corset-wearer  (forced  respiration).        ABDOMINAL. 


COSTAL.  Fig.  10.    Young  Woman  in  Corset.  ABDOMINAL. 


COSTAL.  ABDOMINAL,, 

Fig.  ii.     Man  in  Corset, 


SHUN  THE   CORSET. 

"  Fig.  3  shows  an  average  tracing  from  a  Chi- 
nese woman  whose  dress  does  not  interfere  with 
her  breathing.  Figures  4  and  5  show  how  a  young 
Indian  man  and  a  young  woman  of  the  same  tribe 
breathe.  There  is  practically  no  difference.  Fig. 
6  shows  the  breathing  of  another  Indian  woman. 
Fig.  7  gives  the  tracing  of  a  Scotch  woman  forty- 
five  years  of  age,  who  never  wore  a  corset.  She 
breathes  like  a  man.  Fig.  8  represents  the  trac- 
ings of  a  woman  thirty  years  of  age  who  for  six 
years  has  been  trying  to  regain  her  lost  breathing 
powers,  sacrificed  to  fashionable  dress  and  the  cor- 
set. She  is  succeeding,  as  the  curves  in  both  costal 
and  abdominal  breathing  indicate  ;  but  she  has 
been  a  great  sufferer  for  years  because  of  her  cor- 
set. Figures  10  and  n  show  that  the  corset  ap- 
plied to  men  has  the  same  effect  as  upon  women.. 

"  It  would  be  so  much  better  if  young  girls 
could  be  taught  to  shun  the  corset  and  tight 
lacing,  for  by  so  doing  they  would  escape  many 
disorders  and  diseases  with  which  corset-wearers 
suffer.  You  will  find  that  most  of  the  young  women 
attending  colleges  and  universities  discard  tight 
lacing.  Those  who  do  not,  are  less  apt  to  com- 
plete the  collegiate  course  with  satisfaction  to 
themselves  and  their  friends." 

"I  shall  tell  my  mother,"  said  Julia,  "that  I  do 
not  care  to  adopt  corsets  ;  for  I  would  rather  re- 
main natural  in  my  breathing." 

"  If  girls  can  also  be  made  to  understand  how 
the  wearing  of  high-heeled  shoes  throws  the  body 


442  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

out  of  balance,"  I.  continued,  "  how  constipation 
conduces  to  congestion  of  the  pelvic  organs,  and 
how  such  congestions  tend  to  produce  painful 
menstruation,  they  will  the  more  readily  incline 
towards  the  obedience  of  physical  laws.  Some 
people,  and  even  some  teachers  and  parents,  talk 
to  girls  as  if  they  were  of  necessity  semi-invalids, 
and  this  is  a  great  mistake.  I  have  already  told 
you  that  from  the  ovary  comes  the  ovum  ;  and  I 
have  now  only  to  add,  that  it  is  first  developed  at 
puberty,  or  when  the  girl  is  from  twelve  to  fifteen 
years  of  age.  When  the'  girl  is  in  perfect  health, 
an  ovum  is  developed  every  four  weeks.  At  this 
time  the  girl  may  experience  some  nervous  symp- 
toms, which  will  remind  her  of  the  period,  but  in 
many  instances  there  is  nothing  to  disturb  her  re- 
pose of  body  or  mind.  Every  girl,  however,  should 
take  good  care  of  herself  at  this  time,  and  not  ex- 
pose herself  to  wet  feet  or  cold.  Every  girl  should 
know  that  it  is  just  as  natural  for  her  to  have  these 
periodic  changes  as  it  is  for  her  to  desire  food.  It 
is  an  important  part  of  her  life,  and  without  it  she 
might  be  wretched  indeed.  One  young  woman 
who  was  engaged  to  be  married,  knowing  that  she 
was  not  like  other  girls,  called  upon  a  lady  physi- 
cian and  surgeon,  and  when  the  doctor  told  her 
that  she  was  deformed,  and  that  the  Holy  Place, 
uterus,  and  The  Holy  of  Holies,  ovaries,  were  all 
absent  in  her  case,  and  that  she  should  never 
marry,  she  exclaimed  in  an  outburst  of  grief, — 


V»Sr(A^K 

O*-    THM 

UNIVERSITY 
^ 


THE  MADONNA  OF  THE  CHAIR.     (RAPHAEL.) 


MOTHERHOOD.  443 

"  Why  was  I  not  made  like  other  girls  ?  Now  I 
can  never  marry,  have  a  home  of  my  own,  a  hus- 
band, or  children  !  I  must  be  a  wanderer  on  the 
earth,  and  devote  myself  to  caring  for  others  !  " 

"All  girls  should  be  taught  the  great  sacredness 
of  this  gift  and  the  possibility  of  motherhood,  and 
then  they  will  more  fully  appreciate  God's  good- 
ness to  mothers.  To  finish  this  subject  which  you 
have  considered  with  such  close  attention,  let  me 
read  for  you  a  few  verses  which  seem  to  make  im- 
pressive and  at  the  same  time  lift  to  its  highest 
sublimity  the  subject  of— 

"MOTHERHOOD. 

"The  fair  young  Earth  hushed  all  her  sounds  of  life, 
As  evening  gathered  in  the  western  sky, 
And  calmed  the  sportive  winds,  that  she  might  hear 
The  world's  first  mother's  first  fond  lullaby, 
A  rapture,  such  as  mothers  share  with  God, 
By  sweet  melodious  cadences  expressed, 
'My  child !   Part  of  my  heart  in  human  form  ; 
My  living  thought,  plucked  from  my  throbbing  breast ! ' 

"  How  good  was  God  to  give  such  balm  divine 
To  sinning  Eve  bereft  of  paradise  I 
To  grant  her,  mourning  over  Eden  lost, 
To  find  new  Edens  in  her  baby's  eyes  ! 
And  every  mother,  crooning  o'er  her  child, 
Catches  the  same  sweet  rapture  from  the  skies, 
And,  though  shut  out  of  earthly  Edens,  finds. 
In  mother-love,  a  sinless  paradise. 


444  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

"Each  height  of  bliss  but  measures  depth  of  woe, 
And  mother-joy  is  matched  by  mother-pain ; 
Eve's  gentle  heart  bled  o'er  her  sinning  child, 
And  Mary  wept  o'er  hers  who  had  no  stain. 
Mothers  alone  drink  sorrow's  deepest  dregs ; 
Did  God  need  sympathy,  that  he  should  deign 
To  grant  to  woman,  through  her  mother-love, 
Some  comprehension  of  his  love  and  pain  ? 

"Mothers  alone  climb  joy's  most  rapturous  heights, 
Here,  too,  they  touch  the  heart  of  love  divine; 
O  Father,  God,  how  very  good  thou  art, 
To  grant  us  joys  that  else  were  only  thine ! 
A  partnership  with  God  is  motherhood. 
What  strength,  what  purity,  what  self-control, 
What  love,  what  wisdom  should  belong  to  her 
Who  helps  God  fashion  an  immortal  soul  !  " 

When  I  finished  reading  the  verses,  Clarence  and 
Julia  sat  meditatively,  as  if  trying  to  comprehend 
their  import,  and  for  a  few  moments  no  one  spoke  ; 
then  I  remarked  that  I  felt  as  if  I  really  had  tres- 
passed upon  their  time,  because  I  kept  them  from 
playing. 

"O  no,  Doctor,"  said  Clarence,  "we  can  play  any 
day,  and  we  are  only  too  glad  to  have  you  with 
us  and  teach  us  what  we  are  anxious  to  know. 
We  will  call  this  our  college  day,  and  I  hope  that 
we  shall  not  forget  what  you  have  taught  us." 

"Why,"  said  Julia,  "we  have  been  so  deeply  in- 
terested that  we  have  forgotten  to  eat  our  picnic 
dinner  ;  won't  you  try  some  of  the  orange,  Doctor, 
and  a  piece  of  this  candy,  too  ?  I  have  been  wait- 


KEEP  THE  LAW.  445 

ing  to  ask  you  to  eat  something,  but  I  feared  it 
would  not  be  polite  to  interrupt  you  when  you 
were  talking." 

"  You  were,  indeed,  very  polite,"  I  replied,  "  and 
I  think  it  was  your  marked  attention  which  en- 
couraged me  to  continue  my  remarks  until  I  had 
pretty  thoroughly  covered  the  subject,  and  now  we 
will  give  equally  good  attention  to  your  repast.  I 
am  fond  of  the  sweet  juice  of  the  orange,  and  to 
mingle  it  with  some  kinds  of  candy  gives  it  a  new 
flavor.  It  is  like  eating  sugar  on  water-melon  or 
musk-melon.  Sugar,  I  find,  is  one  of  the  best  ad- 
ditions to  the  sweet  of  the  cantaloupe.  Indeed,  I 
think  sugar  adds  to  the  relish  of  vegetables,  such 
as  beans  and  peas,  and,  if  you  please,  even  to  pota- 
toes." 

"  Do  n't  you  think,  Doctorv"  inquired  Julia,  "that 
sugar  used  to  excess  is  injurious  to  the  teeth?" 

"No,"  I  replied,  "that  has  not  been  my  experi- 
ence. We  must  do  away  with  the  sugar  trust  for 
some  years  before  there  will  be  much  danger  in 
that  direction.  If  there  is  any  harm  from  eating 
sugar,  it  is  more  likely  to  come  from  the  adultera- 
tions found  in  the  sugar.  Give  us  cheap  sugar, 
and  there  will  be  less  danger  from  this  source  than 
now." 

On  looking  around  the  apartment  I  noticed,  for 
the  first  time,  that  in  one  corner  was  Julia's  doll. 

"O  dear  me,"  I  exclaimed,  "how  we  have 
slighted  the  baby.  It  is  too  bad  that  we  should 
keep  right  on  in  our  talk,  when  the  baby  was  cry- 

29 


446  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

ing  because  of  our  neglect.  Do  bring  him  tome, 
Julia,  and  I  will  try  to  get  him  quiet,  while  you 
clear  off  the  table." 

"  If  you  try,"  said  Julia,  "  I  think  you  could 
quiet  him.  Can  you  sing  him  to  sleep  ?" 

I  sang  the  "  Rock-a-by  Baby  "  over  and  over  like 
a  round,  soft  and  sweet,  with  accent  so  marked 
that  it  gave  a  distinct  waltz  movement. 

ROCK-A-BY     BABY. 

(To  BE  SUNG  AS  A  ROUND.) 
^  With  marked  accent. 


A  bi)    r*    h_    P 

„_      .       p      M       P 

nc" 

CtsS-Q             B 

Els 

P       ^ 

W^    *5 

so  QZM-      *  m 

P 

*—m—-m     EM- 

*(•    ^ 

&      '  y      *  -£&**-+], 

Rock  -  a   -    by      ba  -  by     On     the    tree  -  top,    When 

*.    i*     /•       1       I*      t*      P    ,•      _ 

the  wind 

i*      ~i*~ 

3 

*     M    \      r      c* 

L 

r*   r            -i  i  • 

r       r 

T^b  Q                                 L 

1 

L                     i 

L 

ns  *•    r     r 

v     &     ^ 

^^^^ 
.  f\       ^^ 

lie    J          ih_     ^ 

n       N      i             KHIZSZZ*S 

x  b  H        P 

*1                 P 

Z 

irh     *  *^         « 

«      *n      ^          M        W      * 

\^.\)       j  *  ^i 

•       *       •"           **       *       « 

|H 

blows,    the     era  - 

die    will  rock;    When     the    bow    bends,  the 

1              1 

l^y*i                                      1 

1 

^ 

_C^Z5                             1  ff 

i*       r       r 

i*         •* 

i         1                      (•  •       •       r 

L    L    i 

U     -    IP       U 

IS       i      || 

b       P      P      P 

H 

P 

1'            «• 

1     a 

V       1          ^ 

i— 

fj        J       ^       ^ 

49^                                   4W 

*!      «  •   1 

era  -  die   will    fall 

I*       I*       I* 

;     Down  comes  ba  -  by,     era  -  die,  and  all. 

1       h           ,•      ^ 

im\' 

—      —      _      j      j      p 

i    *   II 

IK 

*i     r     r     "     "     r     i 

1 

SSp    L      •      U      • 

r             i*                    r 

• 

r       i                  ^ 

II 

L    L    L    1 

L              I 

L   r 

THE  EVENING  STAR. 

"  That  is  just  the  kind  of  music  for  such  young 
children,"  said  Julia,  "  and  how  quiet  he  has  got 
while  you  were  singing." 

Julia  took  the  baby,  and  we  quit  the  bower 
house  to  seek  our  homes  in  the  city.  Here  and 
there  an  electric  light  scintillated  over  the  quiet 
little  city,  and  seemed  to  beckon  us  to  repose,  at 
the  close  of  the  day.  Par  away,  over  the  smooth 
waters  of  the  lake,  the  horizon  was  bathed  in  the 
glories  of  a  magnificent  sunset,  and  the  water  re- 
flected the  splendors  of  the  scene.  I  was  filled 
with  admiration  for  the  beauty  and  splendor  by 
which  we  were  surrounded,  and  also  with  thank- 
fulness to  the  Divine  goodness  which  has  so  con- 
stituted man  that  he  can  appreciate  the  beauty,  the 
magnificence,  and  the  grandeur  of  nature. 

The  next  moment  I  was  asking  myself  if  any 
good  would  come  of  my  effort  to  teach  the  young 
what  they  ought  to  know,  or  would  these  young 
minds  soon  forget,  in  their  play,  the  lesson  which  I 
had  been  trying  to  impress  upon  them  ?  I  was  re- 
called to  my  immediate  surroundings  by  a  ques- 
tion from  Julia. 

"  Doctor,"  said  she,  "  is  that  the  evening  star 
which  we  see  over  the  hills  yonder?" 

11  Yes,  Julia,"  I  replied,  "  that  clear,  white,  beau- 
tiful star  is  the  star  of  the  evening." 

"  But  why  do  you  say  white  star,  Doctor  ?"  asked 
Clarence.  "  Are  not  all  stars  white  ? " 

"  No,  not  all  of  them,"  said  I  ;  "  for  we  have  green 
and  blue  stars,  and  on  a  clear  night  it  is  possible 


448  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

to  pick  out  some  of  the  stars  that  are  colored,  and 
this  gives  me  a  new  cause  of  admiration  for  the 
Creator." 

"Doctor,  can  you  tell  me,"  asked  Julia,  "how  I 
can  know  the  big  dipper  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  if  in  an  hour  or  so  you  will  look  up  at  the 
heavens  in  this  region  (pointing),  you  will  be  able 
to  see  the  big  dipper.  There  is  a  little  song  by 
which  you  may  know  it,  called  *  The  Big  Dipper.'" 

During  the  next  few  weeks  I  met  my  young 
friends  only  occasionally,  first  one  and  then  the 
other,  as  they  were  on  their  way  to  school.  We 
always  recognized  each  other  with  a  bow  that,  to 
us  at  least,  signified  more  than  the  ordinary  salu- 
tation. We  seemed  to  remember  that  we  were 
more  intimately  related  than  other  strangers,  be- 
cause we  had  so  carefully  and  reverently  consid- 
ered together  The  Holy  of  Holies. 


THE  BIG   DIPPER. 


the  Big  Dipper  ?'  and    Ju  -  lia's    black  eyes      Looked 


"Come     in   -    to  the    house,      your  slate    I        will  take,  And 

"Now     let's     go  out    doors,       and  once  more     I'll      try  To 

"  But    what's    in  the  dipper  ?   do  you  think  it       can       be  Milk, 

"O  Ma,       I     re -member,  you  once  told  me  that  there,  Close, 

"  Per    -   haps    in  that  dipper,     so     wide  and         so  deep,  The 


-,       KM 


^&&& 


fliS 


^ 


-^ 


|_JV_Jyj:  ^-i«i    n—  *|  ip~^=H 

l=^=l^=  -^=*= 


AEiJ->  k^i==££ 
jSfj^frj^ 


won  -  d'ring-ly 


up         to  the        star -sprinkled  skies.  'You 


here  in    their  order  the 

find  that    big  dipper  way 

wa    -  ter,     or  coffee,  or 

close  to     the  dipper        is 

sil     -  ver  moon  waters  her 


bright  stars  I'll  make.  There  are 

up         in  the       sky.     Four 
choc'  -  late,  or       tea  ?    Is   it 
found    the  big      bear,    And 
little        star    sheep  ;    Or    it 


THE  BIG  DIPPER.  —  CONCLUDED. 


h    fc     h    [       _  N  ,     I X s,    p^ C-K-, 


say  there's  a  dipper, 
four  for  the  dipper, 
stars  in  the  dipper, 
full  of  rain  -  water  ? 
when  he  is  thirsty, 


and  long  han  -  die  too,              I 

the  han  -  die      has  three,  I      am 

the  han  -  die     has  three,         O, 

if        so,  Where's  the  pail?  Is       it 

as  quick    as        a  wink          He 


may     be  that    angels,      through  long    sum  -  mer  hours,      Store  a- 


rit.      ad 


lib. 


K  ic.   i     is.   ns  it.  .  i 


wish  I    could  seeit,  dear  Mamma,  do  n'tyou?Dear  Mamma,  do  n'tyou? 
sure  you    can  see   it  as  plain  as  can    be,    As    plain  as  can       be. 
yes!    I        can   see  it  as  plain  as  can    be,    As     plain  as  can       be. 
full  in        the  winter  of  ice,  snow,  or  hail?  Of.  ice,  snow,  or  hail? 
takes  the    big  dipper,  and  has  a  good  drink.   And  has  a  good  drink." 
way  in  the  dipper  sweet  dew  for  the  flowers,   Sweet  dew  for  the  flowers.'' 


THE  BELLE  OF  CORNELL 

Andante. 


1.  Is  -  a-  be1,    Belle  of  Cornell,    Beaut;  -  ful      inform  and  feature; 

2.  Is  -  a   bel,     Belle  of  Cornell,    Charming    ev  -  'ry  fond  behold-  er, 

3.  Is  -  a  -  bel,    Belle  of  Cornell,    Can  it    be    she  does  not  know  it  ? 


Beauti  -  ful  in  heart  as  well,  Just  the  win-somest  dear  creature. 
And  the  hearts  that  love  her  well  Sure  -  ly  ncv  -  er  can  grow  colder. 
If  she  does,  she  will  not  tell,  Nor  will  her  demeanor  show  it. 


tec 


IE 


-z]-=|r 


*-        *-  &r 


CHO. 


£ 

Is  -    a  -  bel,    ho  wean  she 


know  All  our  loving  hearts  would  tell  ? 


H-'     II  F^  I     I         IR-'- 

^     i>-l1       b"^     P"     L<    r*    — g    i 


her    so  ?        Is  -  a  -  bel,  our  Is  -  a  -  bel. 


CHAPTER     VI. 

SIX    BRIGHT   YOUNG    MINDS. 

IT  would  be  just  like  children  to  tell  some  of  their 
companions  what  they  had  heard  and  what  they 
had  learned,  and  particularly  so  if  it  was  deeply 
interesting  and  on  a  subject  upon  which  they  were 
seeking  light.  There  is  in  most  children  a  love  of 
the  marvelous,  an  admiration  for  that  which  is 
strange,  and  a  delight  in  knowing  and  doing  some- 
thing which  their  associates  do  not  know  and 
cannot  accomplish.  Their  imagination  is  easily 
aroused,  and  if  it  is  kept  in  activity  along  with 
their  receptive  faculty,  or  reasoning  powers,  their 
attention  can  be  enchained  upon  almost  any  sub- 
ject that  is  simplified  to  their  understanding.  They 
not  only  love  to  tell  all  they  know  or  think  they 
know,  but  they  also  love  to  hear  each  other  tell 
what  they  know.  No  one  will  be  surprised  to 
learn  that  I  felt  more  than  usual  interest  in  Clar- 
ence and  Julia.  The  very  pleasant  manner  in 
which  they  accepted  suggestions  made  them  at- 
tractive. The  promptness  with  which  they  put 
into  practice  methods  which  were  mentioned, 
deepened  my  interest  in  them,  and  led  me  to 

(450 


452  THE  HOL  Y  OF  HOLIES. 

give  more  than  a  mere  passing  thought  to  their 
needs.  It  became  a  real  pleasure  tc  keep  them 
and  their  interests  near  at  hand,  that  they  might 
come  into  mind  at  any  moment.  A  few  times 
I  took  one  or  the  other  with  me  in  my  carriage 
on  my  rounds  when  I  had  rather  long  rides 
for  the  number  of  patients  I  had  to  see.  Their 
companionship  was  always  interesting  and  some- 
times charming.  Our  friendship  remained  un- 
broken, although  sometimes  weeks  passed  with- 
out our  meeting. 

A  few  weeks  after  our  last  conversation  at  the 
bower  house,  Clarence  told  me  that  he  and  Julia 
had  some  companions  with  whom  they  had  talked 
about  The  Holy  of  Holies,  and  he  felt  quite  cer- 
tain that  he  could  not  make  them  understand  it. 

"  For  I  'm  not  a  doctor,"  said  he,  "  nor  a  man  of 
science  yet,  and  I'm  afraid  I  get  those  names 
mixed  up.  I  tried  to  tell  them  about  those  little 
things  that  move  around  and  go  into  the  egg,  and 
the  only  name  I  could  think  of  was  tadpole,  and 
although  I  told  them  that  was  not  the  right  name, 
and  we  have  all  seen  tadpoles,  we  could  n't  think 
of  their  right  name,  so  we  had  to  call  them  tad- 
poles all  the  time.  I  'm  afraid  we  are  getting  the 
science  mixed  up  with  common  things,  like  tad- 
poles, and  we  have  been  wishing  to  talk  it  over 
with  you,  at  your  office." 

44  That  is  a  capital  idea,"  said  I,  "  for  I  could  use 
my  blackboard  and  some  illustrations,  and  thus 


ON  AN  ELEVATING  PLANE. 

help  you  all  to  understand  the  subject  better  than 
in  any  other  way.     How  many  friends  have  you  ?" 

"Only  two  boys  and  two  girls;"  said  he,  "  and 
they  are  real  nice,  and  like  to  learn." 

It  was  soon  arranged  that  they  should  come  in 
after  school,  when  we  were  to  go  over  the  whole 
subject  together.  In  the  intervening  time  I  got 
some  illustrations,  so  that  the  eye  might  aid 
the  understanding.  At  the  appointed  time  they 
came,  and  I  found  myself  in  the  presence  of 
six  very  bright  young  minds.  Like  begets  like, 
and  like  seeks  and  discovers  like.  True,  some 
variation  helps  the  combination,  and  this  was 
apparent  in  these  little  students.  They  were 
about  the  same  age  as  Clarence,  and  almost  as 
clever.  By  a  little  conversation  I  soon  dis- 
covered that  my  young  pupils  had  imparted 
their  knowledge  to  their  companions  in  the 
same  spirit  of  science,  combined  with  the  mar- 
velous, in  which  they  had  received  it,  and  this 
gave  me  real  pleasure,  because  it  demonstrated, 
at  once,  that  these  subjects  can  be  looked  at, 
considered,  taught,  and  discussed  by  teachers, 
parents,  and  children,  on  an  elevating  and  re- 
fining plane.  I  discovered  also  that  it  was  of 
the  utmost  importance  that  the  child  should 
first  hear  it  talked  about  with  the  most  hal- 
lowed surroundings.  The  first  impression  is  apt 
to  be  the  most  lasting,  and  for  this  reason  every 
effort  should  be  made  to  give  the  child  with 


454 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 


his  first  knowledge  on  this  subject,  a  high  ideal. 
We  went  over  the  whole  subject  very  much  the 
same  as  at  our  previous  conversation.  Now  and 
then  I  asked  Julia  or  Clarence  a  question  to 
see  how  well  they  remembered  it,  and  how 
thorougly  they  understood  it  ;  and  it  gratified 

me  to  learn  they 
had  retained 
nearly  all  that 
I  had  taught 
them.  It  was 
quite  natural 
they  should  ask 
some  singular 
and  unanswer- 
able  questions 
among  others 
that  were  wise 
and  pointed.  To 
each  question  I 
gave  the  answer 
furnished  by 
science,  as  far  as 
science  has  an- 
swered, and  told 
them  plainly  that  the  others  could  not,  as  yet, 
be  answered ;  that  these  questions  were  left 
to  be  answered  by  the  man  of  science  of  the 
future.  Their  interest  was  intense  when  I  placed 
before  them  the  cut  showing  the  Wolffian  bodies. 
"  There  are  the  pigeon  wings,  are  they  not, 


cl 


WOLFFIAN'  BODIES. 

Doctor?"  exclaimed  Clarence,  pointing  with  his 
finger. 

"Yes,  W.  W.  represents  the  Wolffian  bodies," 
I  answered,  "  that  appear  like  the  wings  of  a 
pigeon." 

"  What  does  sr  represent,  Doctor?"  asked  Julia. 
"  Are  they  the  kidneys  ?  " 

"  No,  Julia,"  I  answered,  "  sr  represents  the 
body  upon  the  kidneys  which  in  time  will  dis- 
appear. The  two  little  bodies  at  r,  represent 
the  kidneys." 

"Where,  then,  are  the  two  bodies,  Doctor," 
asked  Emma,  "that  become  in  time  The  Holy 
of  Holies  ?  " 

"  On  the  inner  borders  of  the  two  Wolffian 
bodies,"  I  answered,  "  indicated  here  by  ot. 
They  are  spoken  of  as  the  common  blastema  of 
ovaries  or  testicles,  because  as  yet  it  is  not 
possible  to  say  which  they  may  become." 

"  But  what  becomes,"  asked  Henrietta,  "  of  the 
wings,  or  Wolffian  bodies?" 

"  O,  I  can  answer  that,"  exclaimed  Clarence. 
"They  fly  away  ;  what  do  you  think  wings  are 
for,  if  not  to  fly  with  ?  Am  I  not  correct, 
Doctor  ? " 

"  Yes,  you  are  almost  correct,"  I  answered ; 
"for  they  disappear,  in  time." 

"  Well,  does  anybody  know  what  they  are  for, 
or  what  good  they  do  ? "  asked  Julia. 

"  No  one  knows  any  more  about  it  than  you 
do,"  I  answered. 


456  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

"Then  their  ignorance,"  said  Julia,  " must  be 
profound."  At  this  remark  all  joined  in  a 
laugh,  to  think  that  on  that  subject  any  child 
knew  as  much  as  the  wisest  man  of  science. 

"  It  is  the  strangest  thing  to  me,"  said  Oliver, 
"  that  these  little  organs  must  begin  to  grow 
away  from  their  home,  and  then  gradually  move 
to  where  they  belong.  Why 
could  they  not  grow  where  they 
are  needed  ?" 

"  That  seems  to  be  a  reason- 
able question,"  I  responded,  "  and 
yet  the  wisest  man  cannot  an- 
swer it.  Here  is  a  cut  which  rep- 
resents a  slice  cut  right  through 
the  centre  of  the  testicle,  and  you 
can  see  the  ten  coniform  masses 
at  i;  you  can  see  that  they 
are  cone-shaped,  and  all  ter- 
minate in  a  common  duct,  or  tube.  It  hardly 
seems  possible  that  a  little  tube  from  one  hun- 
dredth to  two  hundredths  of  an  inch  in  diama- 
ter,  and  nearly  a  mile  long,  can  be  folded  up  in 
so  small  a  space,  and  yet  this  is  the  fact." 

"  I  can't  understand,"  said  Clarence,  "why  it 
should  be  so  long,  for  as  you  taught  us,  it  does 
not  produce  the  spermatozoa,  but  only  the  gran- 
ules or  cells  which  develop  into  spermatozoa." 

"  That  is  another  difficult  question,"  I  replied, 
"  because  the  granules  develop  mostly  while  in 
the  vesicula  seminales,  a  pocket  which  holds  them 


GOD'S   WORKMANSHIP. 

until  needed,  and  no  one  can  give  the  reason 
why." 

"  This  illustration,"  said  Henry,  "  reminds  me 
that  I  was  told  by  a  little  girl  that  it  was 
wrong  for  us  to  look  at  pictures  that  represent 
what  is  inside  of  our  bodies.  Her  aunt  would 
not  even  look  at  a  picture  showing  the  lungs 
and  heart." 

"There  are  people,  no  doubt,"  said  I,  "who 
refuse  to  learn  anything  about  their  bodies,  who, 
by  their  action,  almost  spit  on  God's  workman- 
ship, just  as  if  they  knew  more  than  their  Crea- 
tor, or  as  if  they  were  more  refined  than  he. 
Suppose  you  had  a  farm,  and  there  was  a  part 
of  it  covered  with  a  growth  that  kept  you  igno- 
rant of  what  it  was,  and  that  sometimes  chil- 
dren got  lost  in  its  tangled  bushes  and  mud. 
Would  it  be  wise  to  let  it  wholly  alone,  or  would  it 
be  best  to  put  up  sign-boards  warning  the  young 
of  danger,  and  trim  away  that  which  made  you 
know  nothing  about  it,  and  let  in  the  sunlight, 
and  dry  up  the  dangerous  places,  so  all  would 
be  free  from  danger  ?  When  all  was  cleared 
away,  you  would  have  a  beautiful  and  productive 
meadow  with  a  living  spring  of  pure  water  on  one 
side  of  it  that  would  greatly  add  to  the  value  of 
your  farm.  That  is  what  we  are  doing  for  this 
subject,  and  when  all  the  tangling  ignorance 
which  now  surrounds  it  is  cleared  away,  and  the 
light  of  true  science  and  true  modesty  reveals  to 
everybody  how  wonderful  and  how  beautiful  and 


458  THE  HO^Y  OF  HOLIES. 

how  beneficent  it  is,  the  world  will  be  the  better 
for  it,  and  some  day  all  will  pronounce  benedic- 
tions on  those  who  let  in  the  light. 

"The  next  illustration  shows  the  developing 
spermatozoa.  Some  are  within  their  covering, 
and  appear  like  a  round  cell ;  others  have  escaped 
from  this  covering.  At  A.  I,  they  are  magnified 
three  hundred  and  fifty  diameters,  while  at  2, 


Q 


they  are  magnified  eight  hundred  diameters.  If 
you  will  remember  that  they  are  only  one  five 
hundredth  of  an  inch  long  and  not  more  than  one 
three  thousandth  of  an  inch  in  width,  you  will 
understand  better  why  it  is  necessary  to  mag- 
nify them.  According  to  the  best  authority, 
they  move  only  an  inch  in  thirteen  minutes. 
They  may  retain  life  out  of  the  body  for  twenty- 
four  hours  if  kept  at  the  temperature  of  the  body 
and  in  their  own  fluid,  and  under  the  most  favor- 


UNSOLVED  PROBLEMS.  459 

able   circumstances   they   may   live    in   the  body 
seven  or  eight  days." 

"You  say,  Doctor,"  said  Henrietta,  "that  this 
little  spermatozoa  goes  into  the  egg  through  its 
covering.  If  that  is  so,  I  do  n't  see  why  the  fluid 
which  you  say  is  a  part  of  the  egg  does  not 
run  out  at  the  point  where  the  spermatozoa 
goes  in." 

"Yes,  that  is  another  of  the  unsolved  problems," 
I  answered,  "  and  the  more  we  study  this  subject, 
the  more  we  will  find  that  it  is  wonderful  and  be- 
yond our  understanding.     To  me  one  of  the  most 
astonishing  things  is  the  movement  of  The  Holy 
of  Holies.     They  are  within  the  abdomen  at  the 
first  of  the  seventh  month.     There  is  no  opening, 
so  far  as  we  know,  for  them  to  pass  out,  and  yet 
they  begin  to  press  upon  the  inner  surface  of  the 
abdominal  walls  at  the  inner  abdominal  ring  of  the 
inguinal  canal,  and  passing  along  this  canal  an  inch 
or  two,  they  escape  at  the  external  ring.     They 
pass  through  two  muscular  layers  of  the  abdomi- 
nal walls,  or  rather  slip  between  them,  remaining 
beneath  the  skin  outside  of  the  abdomen.     Why 
did  they  go  to  that  particular  place  to  get  out  ? 
If  you  knew  the  anatomy  of  these  muscles,  you 
might  say,  *  Because  there  was  no  other  point  where 
they  could  have  found  their  way  between  the  mus- 
cles and  in  a  month's  time  have  escaped  from  the 
abdomen.'     But  how  did  they  know  enough  to  find 
that   particular  spot  ?     Ah  !  there  again  we  must 
acknowledge  the  wisdom  and  power  of  the  Creator, 


460  Tt*E  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

How  often,  as  we  study  this  'temple  not  made  by 
hands,'  are  we  forced  to  acknowledge  our  weak- 
ness and  our  ignorance,  and  at  the  same  time 
acknowledge  His  superior  wisdom  and  power." 

"Well,  I  can't  see,"  said  Henry,  "any  reason 
why  The  Holy  of  Holies  should  get  out  of  the 
abdomen.  Why  could  they  not  remain  there?" 

"  You  are  just  like  many  scientific  men,"  I  re- 
sponded, "  who  have  given  this  subject  much 
study  ;  and  yet  as  a  matter  of  fact,  we  know  that 
when  The  Holy  of  Holies  remain  in  the  abdomen, 
the  man  is  not  normally  developed.  He  does  not 
reach,  as  a  general  thing,  his  highest  manhood, 
and  the  reason  why  these  things  are  so  is  known 
only  to  our  Creator,  and  we  are  forced  to  accept 
the  idea  that  He  knows  best  how  all  things  must 
be  managed.  But,  after  all,  one  of  the  strasf  ^est 
things  in  connection  with  this  subject  is  the  fact 
that  although  The  Holy  of  Holies  escapes  between 
the  muscular  coats  of  the  abdomen,  it  does  not  get 
through  the  thin  membrane,  the  peritoneum,  which 
is  the  internal  lining  membrane  of  the  abdomen, 
but  pushes  it  ahead  of  it,  just  as  your  fist,  if  placed 
in  the  centre  of  a  towel,  would  carry  the  towel 
with  it  when  thrust  into  your  pocket.  Your  fist, 
we  might  say,  was  in  two  pockets,  —  one  made  by 
the  towel  inside  of  your  real  pocket.  In  the  same 
way;  The  Holy  of  Holies  is  in  a  double  pocket,  one 
of  which  is  made  by  this  lining  membrane  of  the 
abdomen.  No  doubt  there  is  some  good  reason 
why  this  is  the  best  way  to  arrange  this  part  of 


THE  STOMACH.  46 r 

the  body,  but  no  man  is  yet  so  wise  as  to  teach  us 
the  reason." 

"  We  seem  to  find  a  good  many  things,"  said 
Henry,  "that 'are  wonderful  and  need  an  explana- 
tion if  our  reason  is  to  be  satisfied." 

"Yes,  Henry,"  I  replied,  "we  are  all  the  time 
asking  first  the  how  of  things,  and  then  immedi- 
ately asking  the  why.  I  would  be  greatly  pleased 
if  some  one  would  tell  me  how  it  is  that  the  fim- 
briated  end  at  fi  of  the  Fallopian  tube,  knows 


just  when  it  should  come  in  contact  with  a  certain 
spot  on  the  ovary  in  order  that  it  may  receive  the 
ovum  that  has  just  escaped.  Who  tells  it  when 
and  where  this  ovum,  or  egg,  will  escape  ?  for  the 
ova  escape  at  different  places  at  different  times, 
and  not  once  in  a  hundred  thousand  times  does  it 
fail  to  meet  the  egg  at  the  right  place.  This  is 
another  of  the  wonders  which  we  must  pass 
without  an  explanation,  only  saying,  'God  is  wise.'" 


462  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

"  Here  is  an  illustration  which  shows  how  the 
stomach  is  developed  on  the  alimentary  canal.  A 
shows  the  alimentary  canal  with  a  slight  enlarge- 
ment to  represent  the  stomach  in  an  embryo  at  the 
fourth  week  of  development.  B  shows  the  devel- 
opment at  six  weeks.  At  /  is  a  little  bud,  or 
growth,  which  is  almost  too  small  for  notice,  and 


yet  in  time  this  becomes  the  lungs  of  the  new 
being.  At  the  fourth  week  there  was  but  one 
opening  for  the  outlet  at  the  lower  end  of  the 
alimentary  canal,  while  at  the  sixth  week  we  find 
two  openings.  C  shows  us  the  development  at  the 
sixth  week,  and  D  at  the  tenth  week,  when  the 
stomach  has  grown  to  almost  its  relative  normal 
size.  This  cut  is  very  helpful  in  showing  us  how 
the  alimentary  canal,  which  is  from  twenty-five  to 
thirty  feet  long,  is  developed. 


THE  MAN  IN  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL.      463 

"  We  have  been  talking  of  our  body  as  the  house 
in  which  we  dwell.  What  kind  of  house  is  it, 
Clarence?" 

"  One  that  can  run,"  said  Clarence,  "  and  do  a 
great  many  things." 

"Yes  ;  and  one,"  I  continued,  "that  can  eat  food 
and  digest  it,  and  thus  keep  itself  in  repair.  This 
is  a  great  advantage  for  a  house,  because  it  keeps 
renewing  itself  all  the  time.  If,  then,  the  body  is 
the  house  in  which  man  lives,  who  is  the  man  that 
lives  within  the  body,  and  what  does  he  do  ?" 

As  no  one  answered,  I  continued, 

"  Is  he  not  the  one  who  gives  commands  to  the 
body  ?  He  tells  it  when  to  go,  when  to  sit,  and 
when  to  work,  so  that  really  the  body  is  like  the 
locomotive,  and  the  man  who  lives  in  the  body,  is 
like  the  engineer  on  the  locomotive,  who  tells  it 
when  to  go,  when  to  back,  and  when  to  stop.  The 
engineer  does  the  thinking  for  the  locomotive,  and 
the  man  does  the  thinking  for  the  body,  and  gives 
the  orders.  This  is  true  of  every  boy  and  girl. 
They  do  the  thinking,  they  learn  the  lessons,  and 
they  decide,  or  will,  what  the  body  shall  do.  The 
boy  tells  the  hand  and  fingers  to  make  two  rows 
of  figures.  When  these  are  made,  who  does  the 
subtracting  ? " 

"  The  boy,  certainly,"  said  Clarence  ;  "  for  if  he 
did  not,  it  could  not  be  done." 

"  Then  the  man  is  a  spiritual  being,"  said  I, 
"  who  lives  in  the  body.  Could  the  body  live 
without  the  man  ?  —  No,  it  could  not.  Then  could 

30 


464  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

the  man  live  without  the  body? — No,  not  in  this 
world.  From  this  we  learn  how  very  intimately 
man  is  related  to  his  body.  They  depend  on  each 
other  all  the  time,  and  since  man  is  the  thinking 
being,  he  must  look  out  and  care  for  both  himself 
and  his  body." 

"I  can't  see,"  said  Henry,  "  as  this  has  much 
bearing  on  children.  We  have  our  parents  to  look 
after  us." 

"  Yes,"  I  replied,  "tbut  your  parents  are  not  the 
only  ones  who  are  bound  to  care  for  your  bodies. 
You  might  stick  your  hand  into  the  fire,  and  it 
would  make  no  difference  what  your  father  may 
have  said.  The  fire  would  burn  you,  would  it 
not?" 

"  O,  certainly,"  said  Henry ;  "  for  I  have  tried 
that." 

"Could  you,"  I  asked,  "do  a  hard  example  in 
arithmetic  while  your  finger  was  giving  you  great 
pain  ? " 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Henry;  "I  never  tried 
that." 

"  I  know,  Doctor,"  said  Emma,  "that  I  could  not 
think  out  my  lesson  when  I  had  the  headache." 

"  I  could  n't  study  for  a  week,"  said  Oliver,  "after 
I  fell  off  the  house  and  hurt  my  ribs." 

"Then,"  said  I,  "we  learn  by  experience  that 
when  the  body  is  in  great  pain,  the  man  cannot 
think  as  well  as  when  the  body  is  free  from  pain. 
But  who  suffers  the  pain,  is  it  the  body  or  the 
man  ? " 


WHO  SUFFERS  PAIN.  465 

"  I  think  it  is  the  body,"  said  Henry. 

"  No,  you  are  wrong  there,"  said  Clarence  ;  "  for 
it  is  the  man  that  feels." 

"It  seems  to  me,"  said  Emma,  "that  pain  be- 
longs to  both  of  them,  because  when  there  is  great 
pain,  the  man  cannot  think,  and  the  body  perishes 
under  great  pain." 

"Very  well,"  said  I,  "let  us  adopt  Emma's  view, 
and  this  will  teach  us  that  the  body  and  the  man 
depend  so  much  on  each  other  that  what  injures 
or  clogs  one  has  about  the  same  or  a  similar  effect 
on  the  other.  You  must  then  take  good  care  of 
the  body  so  as  to  have  the  thinking  man  in  good 
condition.  There  are  many  things  you  must  not 
do  ;  viz.,  stick  your  foot  in  the  fire,  or  go  with  wet 
feet ;  eat  things  that  make  you  sick,  sit  where  you 
will  catch  cold,  or  in  any  other  way  abuse  your 
body.  There  are  some  things  you  must  do  ;  viz., 
eat  good  food  and  not  too  much,  have  good  cloth- 
ing, take  baths  so  as  to  keep  the  skin  clean  and  in 
good  condition,  go  to  bed  in  good  season,  take  ex- 
ercise regularly  ;  for  the  body  must  be  used  to 
keep  it  in  good  condition,  and  this  exercise  should 
not  be  in  great  excess  for  a  day  or  two  and  then 
none  at  all  for  a  long  time,  but  rather  day  by  day 
a  given  amount,  and  in  general  keep  the  laws  of 
health." 

"Do  you  think,  Doctor,"  asked  Julia,  "that  a 
person  could  be  to  blame  for  being  sick  ?" 

"Most  undoubtedly  he  could,"  I  said.  "Sup- 
pose the  doctor  had  ordered  a  red  flag  to  hang 


466  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

from  a  certain  house  because  they  had  small-pox 
there,  and  a  man  should  disregard  the  sign  of 
danger,  and  go  into  the  house  and  get  the  small- 
pox ;  would  he  be  to  blame  ? " 

"  Certainly,  I  see  that,"  said  Julia  ;  "  but  are  there 
other  instances  where  in  some  unexpected  way 
persons  are  made  sick  ?" 

"Yes,  I  think  so,"  I  replied;  "  one  may  eat  so 
much  at  one  time  as  to  awaken  the  smoldering 
embers  of  some  fatal  disease,  or  expose  himself  in 
a  wind  or  an  open  window,  or  drink  to  excess,  or 
even  work  too  much  or  too  long.  We  should 
always  remember  that  this  body  is  the  temple  of 
the  Creator,  and  that  we  are  only  his  tenants  ;  and 
for  this  reason  we  should  keep  it  in  perfect  repair, 
as  far  as  we  can.  We  should  keep  all  the  laws  of 
health  so  far  as  we  know  them,  and  we  should  be 
on  the  alert  to  learn  other  laws  of  which  we  may 
at  present  be  ignorant." 

"  Do  n't  you  think,  Doctor,"  asked  Oliver,  "that 
some  persons  are  afflicted  by  Providence?" 

"  Not  unless  they  have  violated  some  law  of  their 
being,"  I  answered.  "  It  is  my  belief  that  God  in- 
tended all  mankind  to  keep  in  good  health  as  long 
as  they  live,  and  then  they  do  not  get  sick  and  die. 
They  just  simply  go  out  like  a  candle  when  it  all 
burns  up.  My  grandmother  joined  the  great  ma- 
jority when  she  was  ninety-four  years  old  in  this 
manner.  She  said  she  felt  strange,  and  when 
asked  to  rest  upon  the  bed,  she  did  so,  and  re- 
marked that  this  was  so  strange.  '  I  wonder  if 


MAY  GO    OUT  LIKE  A    CANDLE.  467 

this  is  death,'  she  asked,  and  in  a  moment,  without 
any  outward  symptoms,  she  was  promoted  to  her 
place  among  the  redeemed.  We  have  more  cases 
like  this  than  the  records  show.  It  is  hard  work, 
fret,  and  worry  that  make  so  many  invalids.  We 
must  admit,  however,  that  there  are  some  poi- 
sons against  which  we  cannot  protect  ourselves, 
such  as  malaria  and  some  other  causes  of  fevers  ; 
but  as  science  progresses,  we  may  hope  that  the 
future  race  will  be  better  protected  than  are  we." 

"  How  can  we  know,  Doctor,"  asked  Clarence, 
"  what  is  the  law  in  our  own  case  ? " 

"  That  is  a  very  important  question,"  I  answered  ; 
"because  we  must  each  learn  for  himself  or  herself 
what  is  our  own  law.  A  small,  delicate  man  or 
woman  cannot  do  as  much  hard  work  as  a  strong, 
vigorous  man  or  woman.  The  same  is  true  of 
everything  else,  work  or  play,  amusement  or  eat- 
ing. This  compels  us  to  study  our  own  individual 
natures,  and  use  our  own  judgment  on  all  such 
questions.  We  must  observe  carefully,  and  thus 
learn  what  is  harmful  for  us  and  avoid  it.  Striving 
to  gain  practical  information,  and  putting  it  into 
practice,  that  is,  governing  ourselves  according  to 
established  rules,  develops  our  better  nature  and 
gives  us  character." 

.  "But,  Doctor,"  asked  Henry,  "why  do  they 
always  send  children  to  school  all  the  time  ?  " 

"  I  can  answer  that,  myself,"  said  Clarence  ;  "be- 
cause they  want  the  children  to  know  something. 
Am  I  right,  Doctor  ? " 


468  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

"Let  us  look  at  the  child  mind,"  said  I,  "  as  a 
volume  or  book  in  which  all  the  pages  are  white. 
Nothing,  as  yet,  is  written  there.  What  is  written 
on  each  page  may  tend  to  make  the  child  better  or 
worse.  Let  the  mother  teach  the  child  some  good 
every  day,  and  the  child  is  growing  better.  If  she 
neglects  the  child,  it  may  learn  something  harmful, 
because  the  child  is  learning  something  all  the 
time,  and  if  it  is  kept  busy  with  good  thoughts,  it 
will  have  no  time  or  place  for  evil  thoughts.  But 
the  fathers  and  mothers  are  so  busy  that  it  has 
been  found  best  to  employ  teachers  and  schools 
where  all  can  learn  to  better  advantage.  It  is 
generally  believed  that  children  are  taught  in 
order  that  they  may  learn  the  truths  which  the 
accumulated  experience  of  man  has  taught  him  is 
most  useful.  I  think  it  would  be  safe  to  say  that 
the  majority  of  our  teachers  would  be  satisfied 
with  this  statement.  Certainly  the  great  majority 
of  the  parents  would  be  quite  content  to  have  their 
children  learn  as  much  as  their  teachers.  Neither 
these  teachers  nor  parents  contemplate  anything 
higher.  But  there  is  a  higher  aim  and  ideal  held 
by  the  best  educators.  While  they  are  pleased  to 
see  the  child  learn  all  the  facts  possessed  by  their 
teachers,  they  are  yet  looking  with  the  greatest 
anxiety  to  see  the  student  learn  to  think  for  himself, 
learn  to  reason  accurately  and  with  originality. 
Still  greater  is  their  pleasure  when  they  see  the 
student  questioning  the  facts  of  nature." 


DIFFICULT  PROBLEMS. 

"  But  why,  Doctor,"  asked  Oliver,  "do  they  need 
to  study  mathematics  ?  does  that  study  give  them 
any  of  the  facts  of  nature  ?  " 

"Yes,  mathematics  helps  to  solve  some  of  the 
problems  of  nature  directly,"  said  I ;  "  and  very 
many  of  them  indirectly,  because  it  aids  in  devel- 
oping the  reasoning  powers  and  in  strengthening 
the  mind.  The  mind  that  can  hold  on  to  and 
reason  upon  a  mathematical  problem  for  many 
days  or  weeks  until  it  is  solved,  is  one  of  the  most 
useful  minds  in  any  business.  The  mind  that  can- 
not solve  problems  in  mathematics,  will  not  be 
able  to  solve  the  difficult  problems  in  the  affairs  of 
life.  The  mind  that  works  a  little  while  on  a  dif- 
ficult problem  in  mathematics,  and  then  is  satisfied 
with  guessing  at  the  answer,  will  be  apt  to  do  the 
same  way  in  the  affairs  of  life,  and  will  meet  with 
disaster.  To  be  successful  in  any  difficult  business 
requires  the  same  kind  of  earnest,  thoughtful  ap- 
plication that  is  developed  in  working  out  difficult 
problems  in  mathematics." 

"How  long  should  one  go  to  school?"  asked 
Henry. 

"That  depends,"  I  replied,  "on  so  many  circum- 
stances, that  one  can  hardly  answer  it.  '  The  longer 
the  better,'  some  would  say,  but  this  would  in  some 
instances  be  a  mistake.  So  very  much  of  our  in- 
struction is  theory-teaching  that  we  need  to  look 
out  for  the  practical  side  of  instruction.  Suppose 
a  boy  is  going  to  be  a  carpenter,  and  we  should 


47O  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

send  him  to  the  university  to  study  languages, 
history,  and  literature  for  six  years,  or  until  he 
was  twenty-four  years  old  ;  would  he  then  be  apt 
to  learn  how  to  use  tools?  —  I  think  not.  His 
taste  for  working  with  tools  would  have  been 
changed  to  a  taste  for  books  to  such  a  degree  that 
it  would  be  almost  impossible  for  him  to  become  a 
mechanic.  Let  every  one  study  such  branches  as 
will  best  prepare  him  for  the  work  he  intends  to 
follow.  Remember  that  mathematics  go  hand  in 
hand  with  all  mechanics.  It  would  be  a  good  thing 
if  those  who  study  science  would  learn  something 
of  practical  mechanics.  How  impracticable  it  is  to 
see  a  man  educated  as  a  physician  and  surgeon 
who  does  not  know  how  to  use  a  saw,  hammer, 
chisel,  brace  and  bit,  and  such  simple  tools.  Skill- 
ful use  of  these  tools  should  be  required  of  students 
in  surgery,  whether  men  or  women.  So,  too,  they 
should  know  something  of  drawing,  so  they  may 
know  how  to  design  splints  and  mechanical  helps 
for  their  patients.  I  would  say  to  every  school 
boy,  Stick  to  your  school  until  you  have  fully  mas- 
tered arithmetic,  grammar,  and  spelling,  and  as 
much  longer  as  you  can,  and  then  keep  at  your 
books  while  you  are  learning  your  trade.  Read 
history  and  biography  and  good  books.  A  few 
good  books  read  often  is  more  valuable  than  many 
books  read  a  little  each." 


CHAPTER     VII. 

WHAT   WE   INHERIT. 

"  WHAT  is  the  next  topic,"  asked  Henry,  "  for 
our  consideration?" 

"  How  would  it  do,"  I  asked,  "  to  take  up  the 
subject  of  heredity.  How  many  understand  that 
subject?" 

"Well  now,  Doctor,"  said  Henry,  "how  do  you 
pronounce  that  word  ?  I  have  been  in  the  habit 
of  pronouncing  it  her-e-d&Y-i-ry,  and  if  you  are  not 
going  to  conform  to  my  usage,  then  I  must  adopt 
yours  ;  for  it  will  hardly  do  for  authorities  to  differ 
so  widely." 

"  Very  well,"  said  I,  after  the  ripple  of  merri- 
ment at  Henry's  expense  had  passed  away  ;  "if 
you  agree  to  change  to  my  pronunciation,  it 
gives  freedom  for  thought  and  attention  on  other 
portions  of  the  subject." 

"  Yes,"  said  Henry,  "  and  your  remark  suggests 
the  idea  that  if  I  change  my  pronunciation,  there 
may  be  other  changes  necessary  in  my  views. 
Very  good,  I  accept  the  amendment,  and  admit 
that  I  don't  exactly  understand  the  meaning  of 
the  word  itself,  much  less  what  it  teaches." 

"  You  know,"  I  replied,  "  that  you  inherit  your 
father's  property.  His  farm,  you  being  his  only 

(470 


472  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

son,   becomes   your   farm.     Now    carry   this  idea 
over  from   property   to   person,  and   you    inherit 
his  form  and  his  features. 
"  Shakespeare   says, — 

'"  Behold,  my  lords, 

Although  the  print  be  little,  the  whole  matter 
And  copy  of  the  father  :  eye,  nose,  lip, 
The  trick  of  his  frown,  his  forehead,  nay,   the  valley, 
The  pretty  dimples  of  his  chin,  and  cheeks  ;  his  smiles, 
The  very  mould  and  frame  of  hand,  nail,  finger.'" 

"Yes,"  said  Clarence,  "you  are  a  chip  of  the 
old  block." 

"That  is  it  exactly,"  said  I,  "and  this  fact 
has  been  recognized  for  thousands  of  years,  and 
it  is  most  apt  to  be  remarked  upon  where  the 
resemblance  is  in  regard  to  some  peculiarity. 
The  Slav  proverb,  *  No  man  can  go  back  of  his 
jaw, '  has  been  known  for  ages,  and  teaches  that 
inherited  qualities  mark  the  individual.  Some 
peculiarity  may  descend  through  many  genera- 
tions. Of  this  character  was  the  Austrian  thick 
underlip  in  the  House  of  Hapsburg,  and  also  the 
aquiline  nose  of  the  Bourbons.  These  physical 
peculiarities  sometimes  accompany  or  indicate  a 
mental  or  moral  quality,  as  is  indicated  by  quo- 
tations often,  used,  '  Wherever  the  drooped  lid  of 
the  Stuart  goes,  a  selfish  soul  walks  after;'  *  Poor 
Jennie  !  she  has  worn  out  her  life  fighting  the 
hung  jaw  of  the  Carlyle.'" 

"Do  these  peculiarities,"  asked  Clarence,  "al- 
ways continue  in  the  same  family  ?" 


THE  ANCESTRAL    TREE.  473 

"  Sometimes,"  I  replied,  "  every  member  of  a 
family  with  whom  we  become  acquainted  will 
show  the  marked  family  characteristic.  This 
seems  to  have  been  the  case  with  the  House  of 
Brunswick,  of  whom  Lord  Granville  said,  *  They 
always  had  quarreled  and  always  would  quarrel  ;' 
and  also  the  House  of  Claudius,  which  was  no- 
torious for  its  pride,  cruelty,  violence,  and  dis- 
soluteness, and  infamous  for  its  crimes  against 
persons  and  the  state.  The  four  emperors  of 
this  family,  Tiberius,  Caligula,  Claudius,  and 
Nero,  concentrated  in  themselves  all  the  wick- 
edness and  crimes  of  the  age  in  which  they 
lived,  and  the  family  became  extinct.  But  it  is 
to  be  hoped  that  not  every  member  of  such  a 
family  inherits  only  evil.  Such  deviations  from 
the  ancestral  tree  may,  by  joining  other  fami- 
lies, continue  an  upward  tendency.  But,  as  a 
rule,  where  there  is  a  downward  tendency,  it 
continues  its  march  through  the  whole  family. 
More  than  one  hundred  years  ago  in  Ulster 
county,  N.  Y.,  there  was  a  waif  named  Margaret. 
She  had  four  daughters  like  herself.  The  de- 
scendants of  these  vagrants  have  been  carefully 
tabulated,  and  more  than  seven  hundred  paupers 
and  criminals  have  been  found.  The  expense  to 
the  state  on  account  of  almshouses,  prisons, 
trials,  et  cetera  for  the  descendants  of  the  waif 
Margaret,  is  more  than  one  million  dollars. 

."If,  then,  as  good  citizens,  we  wish  to  aid  the 
state  in  avoiding  and,  if  possible,  in  freeing  it- 


474  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

self  from  such  burdens,  we  must  study  heredity, 
and  having  learned  its  laws,  obey  them  as  far 
as  is  within  our  power.  At  birth  we  are,  in  a 
very  large  degree,  what  our  ancestors  have  be- 
queathed us.  One  says,  '  We  are  all  omnibuses 
in  which  our  ancestors  ride.'  Like  many  epi- 
grammatic sayings,  this  is  so  brilliant  that  we 
hardly  stop  to  analyze  it,  and  therefore  it  passes 
unquestioned  as  pure  gold.  But  we  are  not 
omnibuses  in  which  our  ancestors  ride,  because 
one  by  one  the  passengers  may  depart,  and  the 
omnibus  remains  as  perfect  a  vehicle  as  before. 
Not  so  easily  can  we  divest  ourselves  of  our 
ancestors  and  their  influence.  Like  the  old  man 
of  the  sea,  clinging  to  Sinbad's  unwilling  shoul- 
ders, our  ancestors  perch  upon  us,  and  will 
not  be  dislodged  by  any  effort  of  our  own. 
We  must  recognize  them  as  integral  parts  of 
ourselves ;  factors  without  which  we  have  no 
existence. 

"  It  has  been  said  that  we  are  more  nearly 
like  hit-and-miss  rag  carpets,  made  from  the 
various  belongings  of  our  ancestors,  both  moth- 
er's and  father's;  here,  pieces  of  grandfather's  old 
vest  or  great-grandfather's  old  overcoat ;  there, 
scraps  of  grandmother's  old  woolen  dress  or 
great-grandmother's  old  shawl ;  this  brightly 
colored  stripe  is  from  father's  old  necktie,  and 
that  one  is  from  mother's  checkered  silk  dress  ; 
pieces  from  everywhere  and  of  all  qualities, 
woolen,  silk,  cotton,  satin,  and  velvet  mingled 


THE  PATCH- WORK  QUILT.  475 

indiscriminately  by  heredity  upon  the  warp  of 
our  own  individuality.  I  like  this  rag  carpet 
illustration  very  well,  except  that  it  seems  to 
imply  that  our  ancestors  gave  us  only  the  scraps 
and  pieces  of  their  old  worn-out  natures  ;  what 
they  could  not  use  or  had  worn  out  as  much 
as  they  could  before  they  parted  with  them. 

"The  good  old-fashioned  patch-work  quilt  makes 
a  good  illustration  of  our  heredity.  One  side  was 
made  of  new  material  for  a  solid  foundation,  and 
this  to  me  represents  our  own  individual  endow- 
ment, and  on  the  other  side  the  patchrwork  often, 
though  not  always,  new,  represents  our  inherited 
gifts  from  our  ancestors.  Great-grandfather's  good 
nature  and  fondness  for  practical  fun  appears  in 
company  with  grandfather's  love  of  money  and 
attention  to  duty,  broken,  ever  and  anon,  by  grand- 
mother's love  of  pleasure  and  admiration  for  the 
beauties  of  nature.  Mother's  desire  for  having 
everything  in  order  is  so  mingled  with  great- 
grandfather's carelessness,  that  it  is  difficult  to  get 
things  in  order  except  once  in  a  great  while,  and 
then  only  by  hard  effort  ;  father's  high  ambition  and 
anxious  desire  for  character-building  is  mixed  with 
grandmother's  lack  of  ability  to  do  and  her  content 
to  let  things  continue  as  they  are,  so  that  the  reso- 
lution and  plan  made  only  stimulate  to  action  for 
a  time,  and  then  the  good  resolve  and  action  under 
it  disappear  together  ;  or  father's  high  ambition 
is  mixed  on  the  other  side  of  the  house  with  grand- 
mother's indomitable  perseverance,  and  this  com- 


476  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

bination  gives  attention  and  never-failing  energy. 
Everything  is  undertaken  after  careful  considera- 
tion, and  once  commenced,  there  is  no  failure  from 
lack  of  effort  or  thoughtful  attention. 

"  We  must  always  keep  before  our  minds  this 
simple,  yet  valuable,  fact  that  we  are  not  the  exact 
result  of  the  heterogeneous  admixture  of  shreds  of 
character  which  our  different  progenitors  have 
handed  down  to  us,  for  the  warp  of  our  own  indi- 
viduality is  the  solid  foundation  upon  which  the 
woof  of  their  diversified  characteristics  is  woven  by 
heredity.  That  which  they  have  handed  down  to 
us  may  be  strong,  clear,  fine,  and  bright,  and  yet 
it  rests  with  us  to  keep  it  such.  If  that  which  they 
hand  down  to  us  is  poor,  coarse,  unclean  shoddy, 
it  does  not  follow  that  it  must  remain  such,  because 
our  warp  has  the  controlling  influence  over  the 
woof  which  they  furnish." 

"What  evidence  have  we,"  asked  Oliver,  "that 
each  one  has  control  over  his  own  developments  ?" 

"We  can  see  it  on  every  hand,"  I  replied,  "  if  we 
will  look  about  us.  The  high  degree  of  civilization 
by  which  we  are  surrounded  proves  that  the  tend- 
ency of  the  age  is  upward.  Our  ancestors  were 
savages  if  we  go  far  enough  back  in  their  history. 
But  we  may  understand  it  better  if  we  look  at  indi- 
vidual cases.  You  all  know  that  if  you  push  a  small, 
growing  cucumber  while  upon  its  vine  into  a  bot- 
tle the  shape  of  a  lady's  slipper,  it  will  in  time  grow 
into  the  shape  of  the  slipper  :  break  now  the  bot- 
tle and  remove  the  glass,  place  your  cucumber  upon 


ELEANOR    WILSON. 

your  mantle,  and  you  have  a  curiosity  for  your 
friends.  Some  inhuman  beings  treat  little  children 
in  the  same  way,  in  order  that  they  may  make 
money  in  exhibiting  the  monstrosities  thus  pro- 
duced. This  shows  that  the  human  body  adapts 
itself  to  its  surroundings.  Have  you  not  seen  mon- 
sters in  crime  that  were  produced  in  very  much 
the  same  way  ?  Innocent  children  have  been 
taught  to  be  criminals  because  others  wished  to 
thrive  on  the  gain  resulting  from  their  crimes. 

"  Every  human  being  has  its  own  possibilities, 
its  own  potentialities  ;  and  these  are  shaped  largely 
by  surrounding  circumstances.  Place  of  birth,  par- 
entage, and  education  go  far  to  determine  what  the 
character  of  the  individual  will  become.  Horace 
Greeley  once  remarked  that  had  he  been  born  and 
educated  in  South  Carolina,  no  doubt  he  would 
have  been  opposed  to  the  destruction  of  slavery. 
We  are  the  clay  in  the  hands  of  circumstances  and 
education.  The  good  qualities  which  we  inherit 
should  make  us  tend  far  more  towards  the  good 
than  to  evil.  History  records  that  during  the 
Revolution  a  brave  and  loyal  woman,  Eleanor 
Wilson  by  name,  lived  in  South  Carolina.  Her 
husband  and  sons  joined  the  continental  army 
with  her  approval  and  blessing,  and  she  encour- 
aged all  others  to  join  in  the  struggle  for  inde- 
pendence. The  British,  knowing  how  great  was 
her  influence  in  keeping  in  the  ranks  those  who 
were  righting  against  the  king,  besought  her  by 
all  the  inducements  at  the  command  of  army  offi- 


478  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES, 

cials,  to  induce  her  Husband  and  sons  to  abandon 
the  failing  cause  of  the  disloyalists.  Grandly  she 
replied,  '  I  have  seven  sons  in  the  army.  Yester- 
day I  sent  the  youngest,  fifteen  years  of  age,  to 
join  his  brothers  in  the  field.  Sooner  than  recall 
one  of  them,  I  would  take  these  little  boys  and  go 
with  them  and  teach  them  how  to  fight,  and,  if 
need  be,  to  die  for  their  country.'  Does  any  one 
doubt  for  a  moment  what  will  be  the  character  of 
the  descendants  of  such  parents,  where  the  father 
goes  into  the  army  and  takes  his  sons  with  him,  and 
the  mother  at  home  encourages  them  in  the  strug- 
gle ?  In  1858  at  a  reunion  of  this  family,  more 
than  eight  hundred  loyal,  liberty-loving  descend- 
ants were  enumerated,  nearly  all  Presbyterians." 

"  The  old  saying,  '  Blood  will  tell,'  said  Clarence, 
"  seems  to  hold  good  in  this  family." 

"Yes,"  I  responded,  "that  is  true  in  very  many 
families.  If  we  look  at  the  great  leaders  in  this 
world's  affairs,  we  will  learn  that  generally  they 
are  the  descendants  of  progenitors  who  have  been 
improving  for  generations.  Titian,  the  renowned 
artist,  the  founder  of  the  true  principles  of  coloring, 
was  descended  from  artist  ancestors.  It  seems 
that  the  family  ability  need  not  always  give  its 
expression  in  the  same  calling.  Members  of  the 
Titian  family  who  were  not  artists,  were  lawyers. 
Milton,  the  poetic  genius,  was  the  son  of  a  musi- 
cian. The  Herschel  family  had  genius  both  in 
music  and  astronomy.  The  father  of  Sir  William 
was  a  musical  genius,  and  his  brother  equally 


EDUCATION  A  FACTOR.  479 

gifted  in  music  and  mechanics,  while  Caroline 
divided  her  time  in  assisting  her  musical  brother 
Alexander  as  a  soloist  in  oratorios,  and  in  aiding 
Sir  William,  the  astronomer.  Undoubtedly  the 
Bach  family  is  the  most  remarkable  illustration  of 
one  kind  of  ability,  continuing  during  many  gen- 
erations in  the  same  family.  The  records  show 
twenty  eminent  musicians  in  this  family,  and  at  a 
family  reunion,  they  assembled  one  hundred  and 
twenty  musical  Bachs. 

"  If  we  turn  our  attention  to  men  who  try  to  put 
their  knowledge  of  hereditary  laws  into  practice, 
we  may  learn  something  which  in  time  may  be 
useful  to  the  human  family.  For  racing  purposes, 
a  fast  trotter  is  needed.  Very  well,  then,  select 
for  the  mother  not  only  a  fast  trotter,  but  one  that 
comes  from  a  family  or  breed  of  trotters  for  many 
generations.  Select  a  father  of  like  good  qualities, 
and  you  may  have  a  young  horse  of  very  superior 
powers.  Horsemen  have  learned  from  experience 
that  it  is  not  absolutely  necessary  that  all  the 
ancestors  shall  be  trotters,  because  it  will  do  just 
as  well  if  they  were  great  runners.  Good  form, 
great  activity  and  endurance,  with  high  ambition, 
are  the  qualities  that  win. 

"  But  it  must  be  remembered  that  one  other 
factor  goes  with  blood  to  make  it  tell,  and  that  is 
education.  Indeed,  very  many  look  upon  educa- 
tion as  the  most  important  factor.  Certainly,  the 
fine  colt  would  not  have  '  broken  the  record/  if  it 
had  not  been  trained  by  a  skillful  hand.  We  can 


48o  .       THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

easily  understand  how  'blood  can  tell*  alone  among 
cattle  and  sheep  and  all  animals  where  size  and 
form  constitute  the  required  qualities.  But  man  is 
like  the  horse  ;  we  look  for  action  ;  we  expect  him 
to  do  something,  and  for  this  reason,  education 
becomes  the  leading  factor.  We  can  find  many 
illustrations  among  men  to  demonstrate  the  cor- 
rectness of  this  teaching.  Washington's  great  suc- 
cess was  due  to  the  circumstances  and  cares  of  life 
which  educated  him  to  his  elevated  position.  The 
same  could  be  said  of  his  compatriots,  Adams, 
Madison,  Hamilton,  Jefferson,  and  Franklin,  who 
aided  him  in  his  masterly  undertaking." 

"  Did  they  receive,"  asked  Henry,  "  special  train- 
ing or  education  to  prepare  them  for  their  work  ?" 

"No,  Henry,"  I  replied,  "not  in  the  sense  that 
we  use  that  term  nowadays.  There  were  then 
no  law  departments  in  universities  in  which  they 
could  be  trained  as  law-makers,  but  the  affairs  of 
life  which  made  requirements  of  them  was  their 
school.  Washington  was  not  educated  at  a  mili- 
tary school  to  become  a  commander  of  armies,  but 
received  his  education  in  the  field  fighting  Indians. 
In  the  same  way  the  others  received  their  educa- 
tion in  the  midst  of  affairs  the  most  exciting. 
Abraham  Lincoln  is  an  illustration  most  remark- 
able, because  no  one  can  say  that  here  'blood'  had 
anything  to  do  with  his  wonderful  success.  His 
family  ancestors  were  not  above  the  struggling 
masses,  and  his  education  in  book  knowledge  had 
been  neglected.  And  yet  by  his  good  judgment 


ENCOURAGE   THE    YOUNG. 

and  cautious  action  he  grew,  in  the  midst  of  the 
most  trying  affairs  of  state,  to  the  first  position  as 
statesman. 

"  But  the  times  are  so  changed  that  to-day  no 
young  man  is  justified  in  trusting  his  success  to 
the  chances  of  growing  up  in  the  midst  of  affairs. 
The  specific  and  scientific  details  required  in  al- 
most every  calling  in  life  are  so  numerous  and  ex- 
acting that  without  these  at  immediate  command, 
great  success  can  hardly  be  expected.  We  should 
always,  then,  encourage  the  young  in  obtaining  as 
good  an  education  in  books  as  is  possible  ;  for  such 
education  is  generally  the  foundation  upon  which 
success  in  life  is  built. 

"You  have  heard  no  doubt  of  Timothy  Dwight, 
president  of  Yale  College.  He  was  the  grandson- 
of  the  famous  Timothy  Dwight  who  aided  in  estab- 
lishing Yale  College.  A  near  kinsman  of  the  lat- 
ter, Timothy  Dwight  Woolsey,  was  president  of 
Yale  for  a  third  of  a  century,  and  you  will  not  now 
be  surprised  to  learn  that  these  were  all  descend- 
ants of  Jonathan  Edwards.  It  was  no  accident 
that  they  were  scholars.  Have  we  not  now  ar- 
rived at  the  conclusion  that  we  must  educate  the 
young,  or  we  will  fail  in  our  duty  to  ourselves  and 
to  the  state  ? " 

"  I  think,"  said  Clarence,  "  that  we  can  all  accept 
that  conclusion  ;  but  in  what  must  we  educate 
them?  Should  making  money  be  the  chief  aim  of 
life  ?  " 

"  One  would  think  so,"  I  replied,  "  to  judge  from 


432  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

the  efforts  and  strife  among  men.  But  money  is 
only  a  tool  by  means  of  which  we  make  our  ex- 
changes. But  it  is  a  very  valuable  tool,  and  every- 
body wants  it.  All  must  have  it,  all  must  strive 
for  it,  and  yet  there  is  a  higher  and  a  nobler  ambi- 
tion, and  I  would  that  all  men  could  follow  it. 
As  it  is,  they  must  mingle  their  selfish  ambitions 
with  their  generous  ambitions,  and  thus  try  to  help 
the  human  family  to  grow  better.  What  shall  we 
teach  them? — How  to  care  for  themselves,  how 
to  care  for  each  other,  and  how  to  care  for  the 
children  of  all,  and  under  the  last  head  will  come 
the  laws  of  heredity  which  we  are  considering. 

"Teach  even  the  children  that  the  diseases  of 
the  parents  may  afflict  them.  Not  that  they  in- 
herit the  disease  itself,  but  rather  a  constitutional 
tendency  to  that  disease,  or  a  weakness  which  will 
not  enable  the  child  to  resist  poisonous  influences 
that  are  calculated  to  produce  the  diseased  What 
is  more  valuable  for  a  child  to  inherit  from  its 
parents  than  a  sound  constitution  ?  Suppose  that 
this  idea  is  impressed  upon  the  child  in  its  early 
education,  and  it  grows  up,  thinking  that  it  will 
live  so  carefully  that  its  children  shall  inherit  a 
sound  constitution  ;  would  not  this  be  a  higher 
ambition  than  the  one  which  says  by  its  acts,  '  I 
will  do  all  in  my  power  to  accumulate  a  fortune 
for  my  children  ? '  If  this  latter  idea  could  be 
erased  from  the  minds  of  men  and  the  former 
one  planted  successfully  in  its  place,  what  a 


TEACH  THE   GIRLS   WHAT?  483 

grand  change  would  there  be  in  the  upward 
tendency  of  the  race  ! 

"  Teach  our  young  women  that  habits  of  vice 
in  young  men  cannot  be  reformed  by  prom- 
ises to  marry.  He  who  had  a  father  with  in- 
temperate habits  is  in  danger  of  indulgence  in 
the  same  direction,  and  if  he  has  not  the  strength 
of  character  to  keep  from  the  habit  before  mar- 
riage, there  is  little  hope  that  he  will  reform 
after  marriage.  Yes  ;  go  even  beyond  this,  and 
teach  them  that  by  marrying  a  drinking  man 
they  may  give  to  their  own  children  a  drunken 
father.  They  cannot  then  hope  to  shift  the  re- 
sponsibility wholly  upon  other  shoulders.  Let 
them  know  the  facts  recorded  in  medical  litera- 
ture on  the  subject.  One  father,  while  a  tem- 
perate man,  had  a  son  and  a  daughter ;  each 
was  finely  developed,  physically  and  mentally 
vigorous.  Later  in  life  he  became  dissipated, 
and  an  habitual  drunkard.  Of  the  four  children 
born  after  his  intemperate  habits,  one  was  de- 
fective in  mind,  the  other  three  were  idiots. 

"  One  father  who  had  used  a  bottle  of  wine  each 
day  for  fifty  years  had  eleven  children.  Five  died 
in  infancy,  one  was  insane,  and  the  others  hyster- 
ical or  invalids.  Where  both  father  and  mother 
use  alcohol  in  some  form,  the  children  are  more 
certain  to  be  demented,  idiotic,  or  diseased.  In 
one  family  where  both  parents  were  drunkards, 
there  were  seven  idiotic  children.  In  France  sixty 


484  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

per  cent  of  the  idiots  and  inebriates  are  known  to 
come  from  drunken  ancestors,  and  in  other  coun- 
tries the  per  cent  is  sometimes  even  higher  man 
this,  and  in  the  others  not  much  below  it. 

"Teach  our  young  men  that  young  women  who 
only  now  and  then  indulge  their  taste  for  strong 
drink  are  not  easily  reformed.  They  may  become 
epileptic  or  hysterical,  and  their  children  may  have 
these  and  other  nervous  disorders  in  intensified 
forms.  A  mother  in  parting  with  her  son  urged 
him  to  take  good  care  of  her  yet  unborn  grandson. 
Ah  !  yes  ;  beware  lest  your  son  betray  you,  is  the 
word  of  warning  from  heredity  that  is  echoing 
down  the  ages  !  Is  it  possible  to  change  this  note 
of  warning  to  a  paeon  of  exultation  ?  Yes  ;  if  men 
and  women  are  governed  by  an  ambition  to  give 
their  children  good  constitutions  and  good  morals 
rather  than  accumulate  for  them  the  wealth  which 
leads  to  idleness,  dissipation,  and  deterioration. 
When  all  strive  as  industriously  to  build  character 
as  they  now  strive  to  build  fortunes,  there  will  be 
great  hope  of  the  future  of  the  race." 

There  had  been  the  closest  attention  to  what  I 
had  been  saying,  and  I  felt  as  if  there  should 
be  a  change  in  the  subje'ct,  otherwise  my  little 
audience  of  youthful  students  might  weary  of 
my  conversation  ;  and  I  asked,  "  Who  will  give 
us  something  that  will  be  real  interesting?" 

"Interesting!"  said  Emma  ;  "I  hope  you  do  not 
think  any  of  us  could  tell  anything  half  so  in- 
teresting as  what  we  have  been  hearing ! " 


SOMETHING    TO   THINK  ABOUT.  435 

"No,  indeed,"  said  Henrietta;  "not  one  of  us 
will  undertake  to  tell  anything  so  interesting  as 
your  talks.  You  give  us  facts  which  furnish  some- 
thing to  think  about.  I  wish  that  I  had  all  you 
have  said  written  out,  so  I  could  read  it,  and 
think  it  over,  and  follow  out  the  many  suggest- 
ive thoughts.  Why  is  this  not  a  good  and  valu- 
able topic  for  teaching  in  school  ?  Seems  to  me 
it  might  be  a  very  useful  study." 

"I  would  join  the  class,"  said  Oliver,  "if  they 
taught  it  in  school." 

"So  would  I,"  said  Julia,  "if  they  had  the 
Doctor  to  teach  the  class." 

"So  say  we  all  of  us,"  remarked  Emma,  "but 
we  will  never  see  the  Doctor  as  a  teacher,  so  we 
will  do  well  to  learn  all  we  can  from  him  while 
we  have  a  chance." 

"  Indeed,  I  'd  make,"  said  I,  "  a  very  poor 
specimen  as  a  teacher.  If  I  should  apply  for  a 
position,  the  little  teachers  would  hatch  out  so 
many  catch  questions  to  ask  in  my  examination 
that  I  would  fail  utterly  to  pass,  and  then  you 
would  all  be  ashamed  of  me,  and  say  you  never 
knew  me." 

"O  no,  we  would  not!"  came  spontaneously 
from  my  young  friends  ;  "  for  we  know  about  the 
catch  questions,  and  discount  them  and  their 
authors." 


CHAPTER     VIII. 

A   PRINCESS    BEHIND   A   CHARCOAL    SCREEN, 

OR 

BLOOD   WILL   TELL. 

"NOW,  Doctor,"  said  Henry,  who  had  been  very 
quiet,  as  if  thinking  of  something,  "  could  n't  you 
give  us  a  story  ?  Sometimes  you  have  told  us 
real  good  stories,  and  I  Ve  been  thinking  I  'd  like 
to  hear  another." 

"  O,  yes,"  chimed  in  the  others,  "  give  us  a 
story ! " 

"  I  am  always  in  doubt,"  said  I,  "  about  the  use- 
fulness of  mysteries.  Just  at  this  moment  I  do 
not  think  of  a  good  one,  but  I  might  relate  an  ex- 
perience which  applies  to  our  present  subject.  I 
might  name  it  'A  Princess  Behind  a  Charcoal 
Screen,'  if  it  were  not  for  the  fact  which  it  teaches, 
that  '  blood  will  tell' 

"  Ah  !  that 's  the  kind  of  food  for  babes,"  said 
Henry.  "  Give  us  the  princess  without  a  moment's 
delay.  Will  it  be  better  than  'Babes  in  the 
Woods?'" 

"  O,  Henry,"  said  Julia,  "  what  makes  you  talk  in 
that  way  ?  It  sounds  as  if  you  were  making  fun 
(486) 


VISIT  IN  PARIS.  487 

of  the  Doctor's  offer.     You  know  we  all  -want  to 
hear  it." 

"  No,  I  'm  not  making  fun  of  the  Doctor,"  said 
the  mischievous  and  at  times  tormenting  Henry  ; 
" never  was  more  in  earnest  in  my  life,  and  I'm 
ready  for  the  appearance  of  the  princess." 

"  My  visit  in  Paris,  I  think  I  have  told  you,"  said 
I,  "  was  shortly  after  the  war  between  Germany 
and  France.  The  French  were  very  bitter  against 
the  Germans  and  everything  that,  came  from 
Germany.  The  part  our  American  minister,  Mr. 
Washburn,  acted  during  and  after  the  siege  of 
Paris,  made  him  very  noted  all  through  Europe, 
and  especially  so  in  Paris,  and  this  aided  in  mak- 
ing all  Americans  very  popular  with  the  French." 

"Excuse  me,"  said  Henrietta,  "if  I  ask  what  our 
American  minister  did  to  make  himself  noted  and 
to  endear  the  Americans  to  the  French  ? " 

"  Certainly,  ask  all  the  questions  you  wish,"  said 
I ;  "  for  that  keeps  me  from  making  mistakes,  and 
talking  about  things  which  y&u  do  not  fully  un- 
derstand. When  the  German  army  defeated  the 
French  army  at  Sedan  under  '  Napoleon  the  Little/ 
as  Victor  Hugo  says,  the  French  at  Paris  over- 
threw his  empire,  and  established  the  republic. 
But  when  the  German  army  surrounded  Paris,  the 
red  republicans,  or  mob,  as  we  would  call  them, 
took  possession  of  the  city,  and  they  were  so  blood- 
thirsty that  they  began  shooting  the  citizens  of 
Paris,  whom  they  did  not  fancy.  This  mob  had 
very  little  respect  for  anybody,  but  it  seems  they 


488  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

had  learned  that  Mr.  Washburn,  minister  from  the 
United  States,  was  very  much  of  a  gentleman  and 
a  statesman,  who  desired  to  do  and  have  done  what 
was  right.  They  were  about  to  shoot  some  Cath- 
olic priests,  when  he  remonstrated  with  them,  and 
entreated  them  to  save  the  lives  of  the  prisoners, 
and  the  mob  granted  his  request ;  and  in  this  way 
he  soon  became  the  most  influential  man  in  Paris. 
He  saved  the  lives  of  many  foreigners,  Germans, 
and  also  Frenchmen. 

"The  hated  German  army  had  gone  home,  and 
one  might  almost  truthfully  say  that  the  American 
was  left  the  conqueror  of  the  French  empire,  now 
a  republic.  I  very  soon  learned  that  to  say  in  my 
best  French,  *  I  am  an  American, '  was  to  introduce 
myself  to  friends.  Not  only  the  professors  and 
'doctors  of  the  University  of  Paris  greeted  me  cor- 
dially, but  everywhere  the  common  people  were 
equally  polite  and  cordial.  Much  of  my  time  I 
spent  at  the  University  or  in  the  hospitals,  but  I 
visited  all  parts  of  trie  city  to  see  the  sights.  One 
day  I  walked  down  the  street  where  live  in  great 
numbers  the  red  republicans,  the  citizens  who 
make  the  mobs,  who  barricade  the  streets,  and  dig 
up  the  pavements  to  throw  the  stones  at  the  sol- 
diers. It  was  a  narrow  street,  with  very  narrow 
pavements,  and  paved  with  rough  stones.  The 
houses  are  old,  and  about  three  or  four  low  stories 
high,  with  heavy  shutters  over  the  windows.  The 
stores  are  very  numerous,  but  small  and  dark,  and 
the  places  for  selling  wine  and  drink  are  still  more 


THE  MOB  IN  PARIS. 

numerous.  There  were  not  a  great  many  people 
in  the  street,  certainly  not  as  many  as  I  expected 
to  see,  though  I  knew  that  most  people  avoided 
this  part  of  the  city." 

"Why,  Doctor,"  asked  Henry,  "was  it  consid- 
ered unsafe  even  in  the  day-time  ? " 

"  Yes,  so  they  said,"  I  replied  ;  "for  even  sunshine 
will  not  penetrate  the  human  breast  and  purify  it, 
and  this  part  of  the  city  is  made  up  of  men  more 
savage,  and  dangerous  than  our  wild  Indians,  and 
the  women  are  made  of  the  same  material  as  the 
men." 

"  But  why  did  you  go  there,  Doctor,"  asked 
Emma,  "when  you  knew  it  was  so  dangerous?" 

"Because  I  wanted  to  see  that  part  of  the  city," 
I  replied,  "  so  as  to  know  where  these  mobs  come 
from,  when  I  read  about  them,  and  also,  I  suppose, 
so  I  would  be  able  to  tell  about  my  experience  to 
my  friends.  The  mob  in  Paris  is  very  much  like 
a  whirlwind.  It  may  come  at  any  time  of  day  or 
night ;  it  may  be  like  those  little  circling  air  cur- 
rents which  one  often  sees  on  the  street,  through 
which  one  could  walk  without  injury  ;  or  it  may 
come  like  a  tornado,  destroying  everything  before 
it.  And  yet  during  the  greater  portion  of  the  time, 
there  is  no  danger  from  them. 

"  Quite  naturally,  I  looked  along  the  street  to 
see  how  many  old  wagons  would  serve  for  making 
breast-works  on  barricading  the  street ;  how  many 
old  frame  houses  remained  to  be  torn  down  for  the 
same  purpose.  I  also  looked  at  the  stones  of  the 


490 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 


street  pavement,  and  saw  that  they  were  small 
enough  to  be  thrown  by  hand  to  good  advantage 
by  a  powerful  man.  I  was  walking  very  slowly, 
thinking  about  these  things,  and  looking  at  the 
marks  on  the  houses  that  seemed  to  indicate  that 
heavy  musket  balls  and  cannon  balls  had  been  in 
use  there  some  day  not  many  months  before,  when 
suddenly  I  was  astonished  to  look,  for  I  was  a  little 
nervous,  I  must  admit,  across  the  street." 

"Had  the  mob  come  out,"  asked  Henry,  "and 
commenced  to  barricade  the  street  with  the 
wagons  ?" 

"  No,  not  that  exactly,"  I  replied  ;  "  but  my  way 
seemed  barricaded,  not  by  wagons  and  things  of 
that  sort,  nor  yet  by  a  crowd  of  men,  women,  and 
children  who  filled  the  street  and  were  interested 
in  watching  this  stranger  who  was  looking  so  very 
carefully  at  every  stone  and  house  as  if  in  search 
of  some  landmarks  by  which  to  identify  a  locality  ; 
for  these  people  got  out  of  my  way.  But  a  little 
girl,  beautifully  dressed,  did  not  get  out  of  my 
way,  but  stood  still." 

"Did  you  run  over  her?"  asked  Henry. 

"  Well,  I  hardly  think  you  will  say  I  did,"  I  re- 
plied ;  "certainly  not  in  the  sense  in  which  you 
mean  it.  Because  I  looked  at  her  across  the 
street,  and  there  was  room  enough  of  a  certain 
kind  for  me  to  pass  ;  but  she  was  so  beautiful,  so 
very  attractive,  that  it  seemed  impossible  for  me 
to  pass  her.  She  stood  in  the  door  of  a  house  that 
looked  as  if  it  might  be  two  thousand  years  old. 


THE    OLD  HOUSE. 

It  appeared  almost  like  a  three-story  house,  but 
then  it  could  not  be,  because  there  were  windows 
only  in  two  stories.  The  house  was  very  dark 
colored  ;  the  wood  portion  looked  as  if  it  had 
never  been  painted,  and  the  bricks  were,  if  pos- 
sible, worse  yet.  The  door  was  small,  and  the 
windows  yet  smaller,  and  the  heavy  wooden  blinds 
were  all  closed.  I  walked  even  slower  than  before, 
that  I  might  get  a  good  look  at  her.  I  know  that 
this  was  not  polite,  but  how  did  I  know  that  I 
would  ever  get  to  see  her  again  ?  You  may 
look  and  look  at  a  beautiful  painting,  and  noth- 
ing is  said,  but  here  was  this  divine  beauty  far 
surpassing  any  painting,  and  yet  you  criticise 
me  if  I  look  at  the  beauty  with  wonder,  admi- 
ration, and  thoughtful  consideration. 

"  I  walked  a  little  farther  along  the  street,  not 
once  thinking  about  the  red  republicans  or  their 
barricades,  but  of  the  beauty.  Why  was  she  on 
this  hated  street,  and  what  could  she  be  doing 
there  ?  These  and  other  questions  commanded 
my  thought.  I  crossed  the  street  and  returned  so 
as  to  walk  close  to  her  and  have  a  better  view. 
She  stood  quietly  in  the  door  of  the  little  store, 
and  now  I  ask  each  of  you  to  guess  what  she  had 
in  the  store  to  sell." 

1  Gr  jceries,"  said  Henry;  "  bakery,"  said  Julia; 
"  dry  goods,"  guessed  Emma.  To  these  I  shook 
my  head,  and  also  when  Clarence  said  "fruits,"  and 
Henrietta  tried  "crockery,"  and  Oliver  closed  the 
list  with  "  drinks." 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

"Lost,"  said  I ;  "and  yet  it  is  not  surprising,  be- 
cause in  our  country  such  goods  are  not  often  kept 
in  stores.  You  have  no  doubt  seen  a  beautiful 
diamond  set  in  jet  black  of  some  kind.  Well,  what 
kind  of  merchandise  could  we  have  for  a  black 
background  for  our  beautiful  diamond  ?" 

"  We  give  it  up,"  said  Emma  ;  "  and  do  n't  keep 
us  too  long  in  suspense.  We  want  to  go  on  with 
the  story." 

"  Charcoal,  charcoal ! "  I  cried,  in  the  tones  of 
our  old  colored  man  who  was  accustomed  to  en- 
lighten our  community  on  this  subject. 

"Certainly,"  said  Julia,  "why  did  n't  we  think  of 
that?" 

"When  I  discovered,"  I  continued,  "that  she  had 
charcoal  to  sell,  it  was  quite  natural  that  I  should 
want  some,  because  the  wood  I  had  been  buying 
by  the  pound"  — 

"What!  buy  wood  by  the  pound  ?"  asked  Henry. 

"Yes,  sir,"  I  replied,  "buy  wood  and  everything 
by  the  pound,  except  possibly  railroad  bonds  and 
real  estate.  And  the  wood  did  not  burn  very 
well,  and  I  thought  of  trying  charcoal.  At  least  I 
thought  of  it  just  then.  As  I  turned  to  go  into 
the  store,  she  moved  to  one  side  with  such  a  grace- 
ful movement  and  slight  bow  that  I  was  charmed. 
The  charcoal  was  in  three  bins,  which  would  hold 
about  twenty  bushels  each,  and  I  noticed  that 
neither  bin  was  more  than  half  full.  I  asked  her 
the  price,  and  I  saw  at  once  that  her  attentive, 
delicate  ear  caught  my  American  accent  of  the 


THE  LITTLE  ELF. 

French,  and  her  elegant  pronunciation  put  me  to 
shame  at  once  ;  and  I  apologized  for  my  imperfec- 
tion in  French,  saying  that  I  was  a  foreigner,  and 
had  learned  the  language  only  imperfectly  in  a  few 
months." 

"  '  O,  you  speak  the  French  charmingly/  she  said, 
'you  should  congratulate  yourself  on  having  ac- 
quired such  a  beautiful  knowledge  of  the  French 
language  in  so  short  a  time.  I  would  much  prefer 
to  hear  you  speak  the  French  than  many  French 
people  who  have  mouthed  it  all  their  lives.' 

"Remembering  at  this  moment  that  I  had  a 
French  lady  friend  who,  in  speaking  English,  had 
an  accent  that  was  peculiar,  yet  beautifully  attract- 
ive, I  flattered  myself  that  this  little  elf  had  made 
a  similar  discovery  in  my  French  (although  no 
other  human  being  has  been  able  to  make  a  like 
discovery)  ;  and  this  encouraged  me  to  gratify  her 
fondness  for  my  French  by  letting  her  hear  more 
of  it.  I  can  't  tell  what  we  talked  about,  but  I  know 
that  I  continued  to  admire  her  beauty  of  face,  form, 
and  movement.  I  observed  that  it  was  one  step 
up  from  the  pavement  into  the  store,  and  that  the 
floors,  although  quite  black,  were  cleanly  swept, 
and  the  scales  on  the  little  counter  were  bright, 
and  everything  betokened  neatness.  She  chatted 
away  like  a  little  lady,  and  yet,  in  many  respects, 
like  a  child.  Before  many  moments  had  passed,  I 
let  her  know,  as  was  my  custom,  that  I  was  an 
American.  She  turned  toward  me  quickly  when  I 
made  this  remark,  clasped  her  beautiful  hands  to- 


494  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

gether,  made  a  very  polite  little  bow  and  courtesy, 
and  said,  '  What  a  surprise  and  a  pleasure  I  enjoy. 
You  are  the  first  American  I  ever  saw,  and  my 
papa  is  such  an  ardent  admirer  of  the  Americans, 
that  I  am  greatly  pleased.  Will  you  be  so  kind 
as  to  go  in  and  see  my  papa  ?  He  will  be  so  very 
happy  if  you  will  talk  to  him  about  your  country.' 

"  '  It  will  afford  me,'  I  replied,  *  great  pleasure  to 
see  him,'  and  as  I  lifted  my  hat  to  the  little  lady, 
she  ran  to  a  back  door,  and  as  she  passed  out  of 
sight,  I  heard  her  call  to  her  papa  that  in  their 
store  was  an  American,  truly  an  American,  and  he 
spoke  French  so  beautifully.  I  could  not  hear  the 
reply  she  received,  but  in  a  few  moments  she  came 
back,  and  asked  me  if  I  would  please  step  into  the 
next  room  where  it  was  more  inviting,  and  where  I 
could  sit  down  and  rest,  'for,'  said  she,  'you  must 
be  weary  walking  so  far.'  This  was  said  in  such  a 
way  as  to  suggest  the  thought  that  I  had  walked 
all  the  way  from  America,  but  she  did  not  stop 
talking.  '  You  must  be  careful,  for  it  is  not  very 
light  in  this  door-way,  and  there  are  two  steps 
down, — there,  now  that  you  are  safe  in  this  room, 
we  will  close  the  door  behind  us,  and  then  go  into 
the  next  room.' 

"  When  she  had  closed  the  door,  there  was  almost 
no  light  where  we  were.  I  could  see  her  white 
dress,  but  could  not  distinguish  one  single  object 
in  the  room,  and  for  this  reason  stood  perfectly 
still.  Having  closed  one  door,  she  soon  crossed 
the  room  and  opened  another  which  gave  enough 


THE   COUNTRY  OF   WASHINGTON. 

light  to  see  our  way  clearly,  and  she  showed  me 
a  seat  in  the  next  room. 

"  *  You  will  please  excuse  papa  for  a  moment,1 
she  said,  as  I  took  a  seat,  *  for  he  wished  to 
change  his  coat  before  meeting  so  distinguished 
an  American,  and  I  fear  that  even  with  his  best 
coat  you  may  not  be  greatly  pleased  ;  but  then 
he  will  be  so  delighted  to  see  you  and  talk 
about  the  country  of  Washington.  I  have  heard 
so  much  about  Washington  that  I  know  I  would 
be  delighted  to  see  him,  and  will  you  excuse 
me  if  I  ask  if  he  is  quite  well  ? ' 

"  I  gave  a  nod,  and  said  he  was  quite  well.  I 
was  not  altogether  certain  that  I  understood 
her,  and  if  she  was  somewhat  mistaken,  I  did 
not  wish  to  seem  to  correct  her.  At  that  mo- 
ment her  father  came  in,  and  taking  my  hand 
in  both  of  his,  greeted  me  as  if  we  had  been  old 
friends  for  years,  and  I  had  just  returned  from 
foreign  parts.  His  French  was  more  difficult  to 
understand  because  his  words  ran  together, 
and  I  could  not  easily  distinguish  them.  Yet 
we  understood  each  other  very  well  when  we 
combined  gestures  with  our  words.  He  apolo- 
gized for  his  appearance,  although  he  was  very 
well  dressed  for  a  workman,  and  I  assured  him 
there  were  no  reasons  for  an  apology.  I  noticed 
many  paintings  on  the  walls,  and  he  again  made 
excuses  for  these  daubs,  as  he  called  them,  and 
said  they  pleased  his  little  daughter,  and  this 
encouraged  him  in  painting  them.  I  looked  at 

32 


496  THE  HOLY  OF 'HOLIES. 

some  of  them  pretty  closely,  and  though  the 
imperfect  light  aided  me  but  little,  I  thought 
some  of  them  were  far  from  daubs.  We  soon 
became  deeply  interested  in  discussing  the  great 
friendship  existing  between  the  French  and  the 
Americans.  We  were  both  great  admirers  of 
Washington,  Franklin,  and  La  Fayette.  If  he 
said  anything  commending  Washington  or  Frank- 
lin, I  immediately  tried  to  say  something  com- 
plimentary of  La  Fayette  or  the  French  army 
or  French  navy  that  aided  Washington  during 
the  American  Revolution." 

"  Well,"  said  Henry,  with  great  animation, 
"could  you  always  find  something  to  say  that 
would  equal  what  he  had  said?" 

Henry's  remark  made  me  observe  what  deep 
attention  my  little  audience  was  giving  me,  and  I 
replied,  "  Yes,  I  was  always  able  to  think  of  some 
noble  deed  of  La  Fayette  or  some  other  great 
Frenchman,  or  of  some  generous  act  of  the  French 
government  that  should  arouse  the  deepest  grati- 
tude of  every  American.  I  always  feel  like  ac- 
knowledging my  personal  indebtedness  to  the 
French  of  to-day  because  of  the  unselfish  and 
generous  aid  which  their  forefathers  gave  to  Wash- 
ington and  his  associates  in  the  darkest  and  most 
distressing  hours  of  our  conflict  against  cruel  King 
George  of  England.  You  can  easily  understand 
how  in  this  way  we  enjoyed  each  other's  company 
very  much  as  if  we  were  a  mutual  admiration  so- 
ciety. I  must  have  remained  there  almost  an 


NEWLY-FOUND  FRIENDS. 

hour,  or  possibly  longer.  When  I  departed,  there 
was  the  same  outward  manifestation  of  friendship 
which  had  characterized  our  meeting.  He  urged 
me  to  come  again  and  see  him.  His  age  and 
rheumatism  would  prevent  his  returning  my  call, 
and  if  I  would  only  be  so  kind  as  to  excuse  him 
for  not  calling  on  me,  and  call  again,  he  would 
be  so  happy.  Having  enjoyed  myself,  I  really 
thought,  at  the  time,  that  I  would  call  again.  But 
we  must  all  acknowledge  that  while  under  the  im- 
mediate influence  of  an  agreeable  visit  of  an  hour 
or  two,  we  are  very  apt  to  promise  to  make  an- 
other visit,  while,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  if  we  care- 
fully consider  the  subject,  free  from  prejudice,  we 
will  come  to  the  conclusion  that  we  have  already 
visited  out  all  the  material  we  have  in  common. 
Very  often,  for  this  reason,  our  second  visits  are 
failures.  I  thought  from  the  old  gentleman's  man- 
ner he  feared  I  would  not  come  again. 

"  When  I  left,  the  little  lady,  who  awakened  my 
admiration  the  more  I  saw  of  her,  was  in  the  store, 
and  apparently  more  attractive  than  ever.  She 
had  changed  her  dress,  and  whether  it  had  im- 
proved her  appearance  or  not,  she  was  certainly 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  creatures  I  had  ever  seen. 
She  came  half  timidly,  and  taking  my  hand  in  both 
of  her  beautiful  little  hands  as  her  father  had  done, 
bade  me  adieu,  and  asked  me  to  come  again,  be- 
cause it  would  afford  her  father  so  much  pleasure. 
We  parted,  all  admiring  each  other  as  I  then 
thought  and  now  think.  Through  the  following 


498  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

day  I  thought,  now  and  then,  of  my  strange  ad- 
venture and  my  newly-found  friends,  for  a  few 
moments,  but  no  serious  thought  came  to  me  until 
the  second  morning  when  I  first  awakened,  when, 
indeed,  I  am  accustomed  to  do  my  best  thinking. 

"  '  How  came  it  about,'  I  asked  myself,  '  that 
such  a  beautiful  child  is  down  on  that  street 
of  the  Reds  in  a  charcoal  store?'  This  ques- 
tion went  through  me  again  and  again.  I  thought 
how  young  and  beautiful  and  graceful  she  was, 
and  how  well  taught  in  manners ;  a  child  in 
years  and  yet  a  lady  in  deportment.  I  remem- 
bered that  her  father  looked  much  older  than 
one  would  naturally  expect  to  see  the  father  of 
such  a  child.  Then,  too,  her  French  was  so 
beautifully  pronounced,  and  for  a  child  almost 
elegant  in  diction.  How  could  she  have  acquired 
this  ?  Certainly  not  from  her  father.  The  dis- 
tinctness with  which  she  spoke  her  French  made 
me  almost  suspect  that  she  was  a  foreigner,  be- 
cause foreigners  always  speak  the  words  of  an 
acquired  language  much  more  distinctly  than 
the  natives.  The  more  I  thought  about  it,  the 
more  I  felt  stimulated  to  a  thorough  investigation. 

"It  occurred  to  me,  in  time,  that  I  was  the 
foreigner  (which  fact  seems  not  to  have  dawned 
upon  thousands  of  Americans  who  go  abroad)  ; 
that  the  French  have  many  ways  unlike  our  own, 
and  that  it  was  hardly  possible  for  me  to  under- 
stand all  their  ways  ;  that,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
it  was  none  of  my  business,  and  even  if  this 


A   PROBLEM  IN  HUMAN  LIFE.  499 

child  had  been  stolen  from  some  wealthy  family 
and  was  secreted  in  this  charcoal  store,  it  was 
none  of  my  business,  and  there  was  very  little 
prospect  that  I  could  do  anything  to  correct 
any  wrong  that  was  being  done  her.  Thus  I 
tried  to  dismiss  the  subject  from  my  mind,  and 
really  succeeded  to  some  extent  for  the  first  day 
or  two  ;  but  the  third  day  the  subject  returned 
with  renewed  force,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  it 
was  a  kind  of  problem  for  me  to  work  out.  Not 
that  it  was  like  an  example  in  arithmetic  to  be 
worked  out  with  figures,  but  rather  a  problem 
in  human  life  to  be  solved  by  investigation  and 
thought.  Continued  reflection  often  brings  from 
known  facts  new  light  and  wisdom.  I  determined 
at  once  that  I  would  walk  along  the  street  on 
my  way  to  the  hospital,  and  see  if  any  one  was 
in  sight.  A  little  to  my  surprise  and  greatly  to 
my  delight,  as  I  neared  the  spot,  I  saw  the  little 
beauty  coming  towards  me,  and  we  met  just  after 
I  had  passed  the  store.  I  stopped  to  speak  to 
her,  and  again  she  took  my  hand  in  both  hers, 
and  greeted  me  most  cordially.  She  urged  me 
to  go  back  and  speak  to  her  father,  if  only  for 
a  moment.  It  would  do  him  so  much  good.  So 
I  returned,  and  we  were  delighted  to  meet  each 
other  again,  even  for  a  few  moments,  but  I  told 
him  I  must  keep  my  engagement  at  the  hospital, 
where  the  surgeons  would  be  expecting  me. 
Then  he  insisted  that  I  should  return  his  way, 
and  have  dinner  with  him  at  six  o'clock.  T«  this 


5OO  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

arrangement  I  gladly  consented.  During  the  day 
I  was  sometimes  wondering  to  myself  if  I  would 
now  discover  that  the  little  lady  belonged  to 
somebody  else,  and  was  kept  from  her  family  by 
some  combination  of  the  red  republicans. 

"  It  was  quite  six  o'clock  when  I  reached  the 
charcoal  store,  and  the  little  lady  was  not  in  the 
store  to  greet  me,  neither  was  her  father  there,  and 
so  far  as  he  was  concerned,  I  had  never  seen  him 
do  anything  that,  in  the  slightest  degree,  indicated 
that  he  had  charge  of  the  business.  An  old 
woman  met  me  at  the  door  and  asked  me  to  come 
in,  and  then  without  asking  who  I  was,  led  the  way 
through  the  small  dark  room  to  the  one  back  of  it, 
where  I  had  seen  the  paintings,  and  visited  with 
the  charcoal  merchant.  Ah  !  here  he  was,  dressed 
in  a  nice  suit  of  black,  with  collar  and  cuffs  of  the 
whitest  linen.  Our  greeting  was  not  only  cordial 
but  almost  boisterous,  and  while  we  were  giving 
ourselves  pleasure  in  complimenting  each  other, 
in  came  the  little  beauty,  dressed  in  elegant  attire. 
She  was  so  gracious  and  graceful,  so  sweetly  at- 
tractive, and  so  very  skillful  in  handling  compli- 
ments, that  I  was  more  than  ever  delighted  with 
her.  Now  there  appeared  evidence  that  the  char- 
coal merchant  was  really  her  father  ;  for  while  I 
was  admiring  her  and  trying  to  keep  pace  with  her 
in  giving  compliments,  he  rubbed  his  hands  and 
smiled  and  laughed  at  our  success  and  failure,  all 
the  time  showing  the  greatest  admiration  for  the 
little  beauty. 


THE  LATE  DINNER.  501 

"  Supper  was  soon  upon  the  table,  and  that,  too, 
in  great  abundance,  and  yet,  Frenchman  like,  the 
host  indulged  in  numerous  apologies  for  having  so 
little.  Fortunately,  I  had  acquired  wit  enough  to 
continue  my  compliments  and  praise  as  long  as  he 
kept  offering  apologies.  It  was  a  fine  repast.  I 
had  almost  half  starved  myself  during  the  day  so 
as  to  do  the  dinner  justice  ;  for  these  Frenchmen 
dislike  to  see  one  sit  and  mince  when  invited  to 
dinner.  The  fact  is,  I  never  learned  how  to  pre- 
pare for  late  dinners.  The  man  who  is  in  the  tide 
of  polite  society  must  almost  accustom  himself  to 
one  meal  a  day,  and  this  one  at  night.  The  young 
man,  or  rather,  old  bachelor,  who  takes  in  the  din- 
ner parties,  has  a  room,  but  no  boarding-place. 
He  gets  up  at  eleven  to  one  o'clock,  and  after  a 
cup  of  coffee  and  rolls,  sits  around  until  it  is  time 
to  dress  for  dinner,  and  then  prepares  himself  for  a 
feast  and  gets  it.  He  is  always  looking  for  invita- 
tions to  dinner,  and  that  may  be  his  employment 
in  the  next  world,  where  he  is  quite  sure  to  land 
in  advance  of  his  time,  because  of  so  many  good 
dinners  in  this  world.  We  enjoyed  our  repast 
quite  as  much  on  account  of  the  flow  of  good  fel- 
lowship as  from  the  flow  of  wine  ;  for  I  besought 
my  friends  to  let  me  drink  chocolate  instead  of  the 
wine,  and  as  this  was  the  drink  preferred  by  the 
little  lady,  the  father  at  length  consented  to  ex- 
cuse me.  There  was  little  of  the  history  of  events 
complimentary  to  either  the  French  or  Americans 
that  we  did  not  discuss  and  enjoy.  One  might 


$02  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

have  thought  we  were  personal  friends  and  ac- 
quaintances of  Washington,  La  Fayette,  and  Frank- 
lin, had  he  listened  to  our  conversation.  Then  we 
discussed  more  recent  events,  the  overthrow  of 
Napoleon  by  the  Germans  ;  and  he  explained  the 
great  mistake  made  by  the  Germans  after  the 
battle  of  Metz. 

"  *  The  empire,'  said  he,  '  was  already  overthrown, 
and  the  Germans  had  nothing  more  to  fear  from 
the  French.  We  had  formed  a  republican  govern- 
ment, and  they  should  not  have  molested  us.  We 
would  not  attack  them.  But  when  it  came  to  the 
last  act,  the  French  had  too  much  wit  for  the 
German  ;  for  he  is  only  a  horse  at  best.  You  see, 
they  wanted  to  march  in  triumph  through  Paris, 
but  the  proud  military  French  would  not  allow 
this,  and  we  even  delayed  the  march  until  we  had 
time  to  fill  the  Arch  of  Triumph  with  heavy  tim- 
bers, so  that  it  was  impossible  to  get  them  out  in 
the  limited  time  the  Germans  were  to  use  in 
marching  in  and  out  of  the  city.  So  at  last  they 
were  defeated.' 

"  This  seemed  to  give  the  charcoal  merchant  great 
satisfaction,  and  I  tried  to  enjoy  it  with  him." 

"But  is  it  a  fact,"  asked  Clarence,  "  that  the 
Germans  wished  to  march  through  the  Arch  of 
Triumph  ?" 

"Most  certainly,"  I  answered.  "The  Arch  of 
Triumph  was  built  to  commemorate  the  victories 
of  the  French  over  other  nations.  The  names  of 
victories  recorded  on  its  walls  testify  that  most 


HIS  BEST  PAINTINGS.  503 

of  them  were  over  the  German-speaking  people. 
And  very  naturally  the  ambition  of  the  party  of 
militaryism  in  Germany  would  be  greatly  gratified 
to  march  an  army  of  triumph  through  this  boastful 
arch,  and  the  French  were  delighted  because  they 
prevented  this  plan. 

"I  found  that  the  good  dinner  had  a  kindly  ef- 
fect upon  the  charcoal  merchant.  He  became 
more  communicative.  He  showed  me  some  of  his 
best  paintings,  and  pointed  out  their  merits,  and 
truly  they  were  worthy  of  the  highest  commenda- 
tion, as  it  seemed  to  me.  He  told  me  that  a  few 
of  his  best  paintings  had  been  sold  to  those  who 
were  willing  to  pay  large  prices,  but  of  late  years, 
he  had  only  been  selling  'pot  boilers'  now  and 
then  when  he  needed  a  little  ready  money. 

"  'This  charcoal  business,'  said  he,  ' does  not  pay 
more  than  the  rent,  as  you  can  easily  see.  I  let 
the  old  woman  manage  that,  and  make  all  she  can. 
She  does  the  rough  work  about  the  house  for  me, 
and  this  keeps  us  both  out  of  debt  to  each  other. 
I  can  trust  her  fully,  and  she  and  the  charcoal 
make  a  good  screen  behind  which  to  work.  My 
little  daughter  has  her  teacher  in  music  and  danc- 
ing, also  in  science  and  languages,  and  we  live  here 
contented  and  happy  for  the  time  being.  At  her 
age  she  needs  to  live  undisturbed,  and  I  am  fortu- 
nate in  having  this  secluded  retreat.' 

"  By  this  time  I  discovered  that  my  friend  was  not 
a  charcoal-merchant,  but  an  artist  of  great  skill. 
His  portrait  painting  alone  was  sufficient  to  make 


504  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

him  renowned.  I  had  seen  the  works  of  our  highly 
esteemed  American  portrait  painter  Healy,  who 
had  made  himself  widely  known  through  Europe 
by  his  fine  work.  What  I  saw  before  me  compared 
favorably  with  Mr.  Healy's  work.  One  portrait, 
that  of  a  lady,  was  exquisitely  delicate  and  beau- 
tiful beyond  description,  and  I  turned  to  it  again 
and  again  with  great  admiration.  He,  however, 
made  no  explanation,  and  I  asked  no  questions. 
In  another  room  he  showed  me  a  number  of  fine 
paintings,  but  made  no  comment  on  them.  The 
little  princess  went  with  us  everywhere,  and  made 
but  few  remarks,  though  she  seemed  to  understand 
everything.  The  charcoal-merchant's  conversa- 
tion showed  him  to  be  a  scholar  in  art,  and 
that  he  was  thoroughly  acquainted  with  its  his- 
tory in  general,  and  with  great  artists  in  particu- 
lar. I  had  now  found  a  Frenchman  who  could 
teach  me  in  art,  and  the  more  I  heard  him  talk, 
the  better  I  could  understand  his  French,  and  with 
the  hope  of  aiding  me,  he  tried  to  talk  slower  and 
more  distinctly. 

"The  evening  passed  rapidly  and  with  great 
pleasure.  As  I  spoke  of  going,  he  said,  *  No,  not 
yet 'awhile,  for  the  policeman  whom  I  have  engaged 
to  escort  you  to  the  omnibus  office  has  not  arrived.' 
"  '  What ! '  said  I,  '-can 't  you  go  about  Paris  with- 
out a  policeman  ? ' 

.  "'  Yes,'  said  he,  'I  can  ;  but  it  would  hardly  be 
safe  for  a, distinguished  American  to  be  found  alone 
upon  the  street  of  the  Reds  so  late  at  night,  with- 


THE  REDS  AT  NIGHT.  505 

out  an  escort.  You  can  have  no  idea  of  the  dan- 
gers in  these  streets.  Let  them  give  their  call  of 
alarm  ;  and  in  a  moment,  almost,  the  street  would 
be  filled  with  men  and  women  ready  for  bloodshed 
and  deeds  of  destruction.  The  soft  balmy  air  pre- 
cedes the  hurricane  and  the  tempest  at  sea, 
and  these  quiet  streets  may  suddenly  become 
barricaded.' 

"  *  Then  why  are  you,'  I  asked,  *  living  on  such 
a  street?' 

"'That,'  said  he,  listening,  '  is  the  call  of  the 
policeman,  and  we  must  not  keep  him  waiting. 
Come  to  us  again  one  week  from  to-night,  and  I 
will  answer  your  last  question.' 

"The  policeman  was  business-like,  yet  polite  in 
answering  my  questions.  He  declined  to  accept 
any  pay  for  his  trouble.  Said  it  was  *  a  part  of  his 
duty,  and  he  should  be  pleased  to  serve  me  at  any 
time.'  For  my  own  part,  I  could  see  no  reason  to 
call  on  him  ;  for  the  street  was  as  quiet  as  any 
others  that  were  brilliantly  lighted. 

"  My  visit  had  not  made  me  much  wiser  about  the 
little  lady,  except  that  I  was  satisfied  she  was  the 
charcoal  merchant's  daughter." 


CHAPTER     IX. 

A   PRINCESS   IS   FOUND. 

"  WHY  do  you  speak  of  him,"  asked  Henry,  "as 
the  charcoal  merchant,  when  you  know  him  to  have 
been  an  artist  ?" 

44  Because  that  was  our  agreement,"  I  answered. 
"  I  was  always  to  speak  of  him  in  that  way,  and  I 
have  kept  my  agreement.  I  was  very  anxious  that 
the  week  should  pass  quickly,  for  I  felt  quite  cer- 
tain that  my  artist  friend  —  charcoal  merchant  to 
the  people  —  working  behind  his  charcoal  screen, 
had  something  to  say,  and  I  wanted  to  hear  all,  for 
I  felt  there  was  a  clearing-up  needed.  At  the  ap- 
pointed time  I  stepped  into  the  charcoal  store,  and 
was  met  by  the  same  old  woman,  and  in  the  room 
back  of  the  dark  room,  found  my  artist  friend  and 
his  daughter  more  pleased  to  see  me  than  ever  be- 
fore. We  were  nearer  each  other  in  friendship, 
and  seemed  already  as  near  akin  as  if  blood  rela- 
tions. We  did  not  now  need  to  wait  until  the  flow 
of  wine  and  good  food  awakened  our  nobler  spirits, 
but  we  began  at  once,  not  to  compliment  each 
other,  but  to  visit  in  real  earnest. 

"  He  took  me  before  the  beautiful  portrait  which  I 
had  so  much  admired,  and  placed  the  little  lady  by 


MOTHER  AND   CHILD.  507 

the  side  of  it.  No  one  could  doubt  for  a  moment 
that  before  him  was  mother  and  child. 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  "  they  are  the  same  blood,  form 
and  feature,  and  each  how  beautiful ! " 

"'Now  I  will  tell  you/  said  he,  'all  about  it,  for 
now  you  know  my  wife  and  my  child  and  me,  and 
you  are  my  good  American  friend.  We  have 
agreed  to  tell  you  all,  and  ask  you  what  you  think. 
We  are  going  to  trust  you  as  we  have  trusted  no 
other  person.' 

"  We  returned  to  the  table,  and  we  three  took  our 
seats  as  a  week  previous,  and  the  old  woman  at- 
tended us  as  before.  The  dinner  was  quite  as  de- 
licious and  more  abundant,  and  I  was  excused  from 
drinking  wine,  to  drink  milk  with  the  little  lady. 
We  did  not  now  stop  to  pronounce  compliments 
upon  the  viands  or  the  table,  because  we  were 
more  deeply  interested  in  another  subject.  The 
flow  of  wine  gave  place  in  importance  to  the  flow 
of  soul.  The  artist  painter  proved  himself  also 
an  artist  in  relating  his  adventures. 

"'When  a  young  man,'  he  continued,  'I  was 
very  successful  in  painting  portraits,  and  gained 
quite  a  reputation.  My  work  brought  me  enough 
money,  and  I  dressed  well.  Yes,  I  may  say,  I  was 
fond  of  dress,  and  made  something  of  a  study  of 
elegant  clothing.  This  I  think  aided  in  bringing 
my  work  into  notice,  for  I  was  called  upon  to  paint 
many  ladies  whom  I  met  in  society.  Ah,  there 
is  the  artist's  trouble  !  The  ladies  of  society  who 
have  the  means  to  pay  the  artist  are  no  more  so 


HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

beautiful  as  in  former  years,  and  they  expect  the 
artist  to  make  them  even  more  beautiful  than  in 
youth.  It  is  the  mother  one  must  paint,  and  not 
the  beautiful  daughter.  One  day  a  German  came 
for  a  portrait  ;  this  was  before  the  war,  when  a 
Frenchman  might  see  something  in  a  German  wor- 
thy of  his  brush.  To  keep  him  away,  however,  I 
asked  him  a  very  high  price,  but  this  did  not  dis- 
turb him,  and  I  gave  him  a  good  piece  of  work, 
because  he  was  a  manly  man. 

"  *  He  sent  it  home,  and  all  were  so  pleased  that 
other  Germans  sought  my  studio,  to  find  that  my 
prices  had  advanced  greatly  ;  for  I  wished  to  paint 
French  ladies.  But  the  German  men  came  in  great 
numbers,  and  never  complained  because  my  prices 
were  continually  growing  higher.  At  length  they 
proposed  that  I  should  go  to  Germany  and  paint 
their  wives  and  daughters.  This  thought  I  could 
not  at  first  entertain,  but  by  continually  thinking 
and  talking  about  it,  and  having  learned  some  Ger- 
man, and  knowing  that  the  best  families  there 
spoke  French,  and  above  all,  the  high  prices  offered 
me,  induced  me  to  consent.  I  found  everything 
prepared  for  me  by  my  German  admirers,  and 
more  work  than  I  could  do,  at  increased  prices.  I 
had  made  many  friends  ;  for  I  was  cheerful  and 
full  of  good  fellowship.  They  took  me  to  their  par- 
ties, and  the  king  himself  requested  my  presence 
at  his  table.  He  treated  me  very  kindly,  and  came 
to  my  studio  to  view  my  work,  which  he  was 
pleased  to  compliment  highly.  So  you  can  under- 


ROYAL  FAMILY  PORTRAITS.  509 

stand  that  I  was  very  successful,  for  even  other 
artists  did  not  abuse  me  or  cast  reflections  upon 
my  work.  But  I  did  not  have  my  head  turned 
either  by  the  many  compliments  or  by  my  suc- 
cess. 

"  '  I  continued  to  attend  strictly  to  my  own  busi- 
ness, and  never  once  had  the  least  thought  that 
any  change  could  come  to  my  affairs.  I  had  not 
determined  how  long  I  should  remain  away  from 
France,  but  always  kept  my  bank  account  where  I 
could  use  it  at  any  moment. 

"  '  A  number  of  members  of  the  royal  family  came 
for  their  portraits,  and  received  the  same  careful 
consideration  as  my  best  patrons.  The  mothers 
were  not  the  only  ones  that  wanted  their  portraits  ; 
for  at  times  their  daughters  came.  I  can  well 
remember  with  what  admiration  I  first  saw  my 
daughter's  mother.  She  was  fully  developed,  and 
had  a  fine  form.  Her  modest,  retiring  manners 
made  her  the  most  attractive  and  beautiful  per- 
son that  came  to  my  studio.  She  came  while  I 
was  painting  her  mother's  portrait,  and  it  seems 
that  my  work  gave  such  satisfaction  that  they 
decided  to  have  the  daughter's  portrait  also. 
Her  mother  came  with  her  at  the  first  sitting, 
but  after  that  another  person  came,  and  we  had 
a  little  conversation,  and  each  time  we  visited 
more  and  more.  She  would  at  times  insist  upon 
my  continuing  my  work  at  which  I  was  engaged 
when  she  came  in,  for  she  wished  to  watch  me. 
I  found  it  wise  to  have  a  good  book  to  interest 


5io  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

her  companion,  for  then  we  could  visit  and  talk 
art  with  greater  freedom. 

"  *  In  this  way,  we  became  acquainted,  and  our 
interest  in  each  other  grew  more  satisfying  to 
both  of  us  as  we  acquired  a  better  knowledge  of 
each  other's  desires  and  wishes  in  life.  When  the 
painting  was  nearly  finished,  I  would  point  out  to 
her  some  defect  for  her  to  mention  to  her  folks, 
and  this  would  induce  them  to  send  it  back.  At 
other  times  I  would  suggest  a  change  of  drapery, 
and  in  this  way  we  kept  the  painting  in  progress 
for  a  long  time,  and  both  of  us  wished  that  it 
might  be  continued  forever.  What  hours  of  su- 
preme happiness  we  then  enjoyed  !  Such  felicity 
could  not  always  continue  on  earth.  It  was  dif- 
ficult for  us  to  meet  when  the  portrait  was 
finished,  for  I  could  not  go  to  her  father's  house 
without  a  special  invitation,  and  there  were  very 
few  occasions  when  such  invitations  were  proper. 
She  wrote  to  me,  but  it  was  almost  impossible  to 
have  my  reply  reach  her  safely,  and  if  so,  she  must 
make  the  arrangement. 

" '  I  cautioned  her  and  remonstrated  with  her 
again  and  again,  and  even  told  her  that  we  must 
be  content  to  love  each  other  as  friends.  She 
kept  her  own  counsel.  One  day  I  was  invited  to 
her  home  to  consult  as  to  a  slight  change  in  the 
portrait.  I  thought  the  change  necessary,  and  it 
came  back  to  my  studio,  where  it  was  welcomed 
with  great  satisfaction  ;  for  I  wished  a  copy  for 
myself,  and  immediately  I  began  my  work  for 


WE    WERE   MARRIED.  ^n 

myself.  She  called,  and  fully  approved  of  my  mak- 
ing a  copy,  and  aided  me  in  finding  reason  for  de- 
lay in  finishing  the  original.  She  told  me  that  the 
plan  to  have  the  change  made  was  wholly  her  own, 
and  she  had  determined  to  have  an  interview  with 
me.  Our  love  was  growing  stronger,  and  the  fact  that 
her  friends  were  talking  of  making  an  engagement 
for  her  with  one  whom  she  could  not  love,  seemed 
to  compel  us  to  abandon  our  affection  or  together 
flee  from  Germany.  She  was  spirited  and  deter- 
mined, and  yet  so  very  affectionate.  I  had  but 
one  friend  whom  I  could  trust  with  such  a  secret, 
and  he  arranged  his  business  to  quit  Germany  at 
the  same  time.  Without  his  aid  we  could  not  have 
succeeded. 

"  *  My  copy,  the  painting  you  have  seen,  was  fin- 
ished, and  with  my  other  valuable  effects,  shipped 
to  Paris.  My  other  works  were  finished  and  paid 
for,  and  my  bank  account  transferred  to  Paris.  A 
few.  paintings  were  left  in  my  studio  to  keep  up 
the  impression  that  I  was  at  work.  We  secured 
a  license,  and  were  married  according  to  the  church 
form  before  we  left  the  city,  and  then  came  direct 
to  Paris.  Her  family  were  astonished,  and  yet  so 
proud,  they  simply  disowned  us.  They  made  no 
more  annoyance  or  comment  than  if  she  had  been 
translated,  and  this  pleased  us.  They  got  the  por- 
trait from  my  studio,  and  I  got  the  princess.  I  wish 
they  had  been  as  well  satisfied  as  we  were.  We 
were  kindly  received  in  Paris  by  my  former  friends, 
and  society  seemed  to  think  my  exploits  in  bring- 

33 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

ing  to  Paris  such  a  beautiful  princess,  commendable. 
She  spoke  French  with  elegance,  and  her  manners 
in  society  were  most  charming.  She  never  became 
homesick  or  longed  for  Germany.  We  loved  each 
other  supremely,  and  were  always  the  happiest 
creatures.  Life  was  then  an  eternal  round  of  af- 
fection and  pleasure.  She  could  sit  all  day  and  see 
me  paint,  and  no  one  to  question. 

" '  Our  mansion  was  large  and  richly  furnished. 
My  bank  account  was  so  large  that  I  worked  only 
for  pleasure,  and  in  this  she  joined  me,  always  in- 
terested in  my  work.  Society  gave  us  more  atten- 
tion than  we  found  to  our  best  interests,  and  life 
could  not  have  been  more  perfect  bliss.  At  the 
end  of  the  year  we  were  joined  by  this  little  prin- 
cess (pointing  to  his  daughter,  who  bowed  her 
head  slightly  and  appeared  all  he  had  named  her). 
Before  there  were  only  two  to  love  each  other,  but 
now  we  were  three,  and  this  means  very  much,  for 
I  had  twice  as  many  to  love  as  before  and  scr  had 
she  ;  all  of  us  kept  in  good  health,  and  for  another 
year  what  could  have  been  more  blissful  than  our 
united  lives  ?  Everybody  was  praising  the  beauty 
and  loveliness  of  both  mother  and  daughter,  and 
they  were  worthy  of  it  all. 

"  '  But  a  cruel  day  came,  and  my  dear  wife  was 
taken  sick,  dangerously  sick,  and  almost  before  I 
knew  it  she  was  taken  from  me,  and  I  was  left  des- 
olate. My  heart  was  buried  in  the  tomb  with  her, 
and  I  should  have  joined  her,  had  not  my  duty  to 
the  little  princess  demanded  my  presence  here. 


WHAT  PRECIOUS    WORtiS.  ^3 

She  said  to  me,  "  You  know  that  I  have  never  for  a 
moment  longed  to  return  to  my  old  home  or  my 
family.  You  have  been  my  all,  and  sufficient  for 
my  every  need." ' 

"Then  the  merchant's  eyes  filled  with  tears  as  he 
added, 

"  '  O,  what  very  precious  words  to  come  from  one 
so  divinely  endowed,  so  beautiful,  so  pure  !  These 
words,'  he  continued,  '  are  always  in  my  heart,  and 
they  sustain  me.  Then  she  said,  "  You  know  our 
little  daughter  may  want  to  know  her  mother's 
relations  when  she  grows  up,  and  they  may  be 
delighted  to  know  her,  because  they  have  known 
me.  If  ever  you  see  any  of  rny  friends,  tell  them  I 
have  always  had  the  deepest  love  for  them,  and 
never  an  unpleasant  thought  of  any  person  has 
crossed  my  mind.  I  have  never  had  time  for  any- 
thing but  love.  As  you  have  always  loved  me, 
now  give  all  your  love  to  the  little  one  that  belongs 
to  both  of  us.  Love  her  for  yourself  and  love  her 
for  me.  Not  that  I  would  say,  transfer  your  love 
for  me  to  her,  for  I  still  need  your  love,  but  since  I 
cannot  be  present  to  receive  your  tokens  of  affec- 
tion, continue  to  love  me  through  her.  Let  all  your 
tokens  of  affection  come  to  me  through  her."  She 
asked  me  to  promise,  and  I  did,  and  I  have  kept 
my  promise.  O,  it  seemed  in  the  last  moments,  as 
if  she  saw  all  of  the  past  and  all  of  the  future  at 
the  same  moment,  as  if  the  opening  windows  of 
heaven  gave  her  transcendent  light. 

"  '  It  gives  me  great  pleasure,'  he  continued,  with 


5  14  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

his  eyes  full  of  tears,  '  to  talk  of  her,  and  you  lis- 
ten so  sacredly,  that  I  have  been  tempted  to  go 
much  farther  than  I  at  first  intended,  and  you  must 
excuse  me  for  these  tears,  for  she  was  the  divine 
being  whom  I  loved.  All  I  had  in  this  world  to 
love  was  my  wife,  and  she  gave  me  this  little  prin- 
cess to  love  when  she  could  no  more  be  with  me, 
though  she  loves  me  still. 

"  'Let  me  pass  those  trying  days  and  save  your 
feelings  and  my  own.  The  child  was  so  young  it 
could  hardly  miss  its  mother,  and  I  fear  I  did  not 
retain  my  former  cheerful  character  at  all  times. 
I  attended  more  thoroughly  to  business  than  ever, 
since  this  kept  me  from  brooding  over  my  bereave- 
ment. The  little  princess  was  always  with  me,  and 
we  have  been  a  joy  to  each  other.  I  was  success- 
ful in  business,  and  accumulated  a  good  bank  ac- 
count; then,  too,  my  parents'  estate  increased  my 
possessions.  I  began  buying  works  of  art  when  I 
found  them  offered  below  their  value,  because  I 
considered  this  a  good  investment,  and  even  if  any 
accident  should  happen  to  me,  they  would  turnout 
well  for  my  little  daughter,  because  I  keep  an  at- 
torney who  had  a  list  of  them  and  their  values,  and 
he  would  take  care  of  her  interests. 

"  *  But  how  came  I  to  hide  myself  down  here  be- 
hind this  charcoal-screen  ?  You  may  well  ask  this 
question  ;  for  no  one  can  easily  understand  it. 
The  foolish  Napoleon,  when  we  and  all  France 
were  prosperous  and  happy,  must  go  to  war  with 
Germany  ;  and  then  came  Metz,  then  the  downfall 


DOWNFALL    OF   THE  EMPIRE.  5  r  5  ' 

of  the  empire,  next  the  republic.  Ah  !  how  could 
I  tell  what  was  to  come  next  when  the  German 
armies  came  on  to  Paris  !  Did  I  take  fright  ?  —  No, 
I  only  took  caution.  Quit  the  grand  mansion,  if 
you  wish  to  shun  the  marauding  soldier.  I  crawled 
from  the  mansion  into  this  safe  retreat  in  one  nieht, 

o 

and  in  the  same  way  we  must  get  out  of  here  when 
all  things  are  ready.  I  have  been  content  here, 
because  I  am  so  well  concealed.  The  tax-gatherer 
does  not  reach  me  here.  True,  I  pay  all  the  taxes 
he  asks  of  me,  but  I  do  not  encourage  him  in  in- 
creasing his  demands.  We  are  quite  agreed  to 
keep  ignorant  of  each  other.  It  -would  not  be  to 
our  mutual  advantage  to  know  each  other  any 
better.  He  knows  me  as  an  old,  poorly  dressed, 
unfortunate  artist,  who  goes  to  people's  houses  to 
paint  the  portraits,  not  very  good  ones,  of  their 
children,  and  who  would  be  glad  in  this  way  to 
pay  at  least  a  part  of  his  taxes,  and  who,  finding 
it  hard  to  pay  his  rent,  lets  his  old  woman  sell 
charcoal  to  help  pay  the  grinding  landlord  his 
rent.  I  know  him  as  a  good  old  fellow,  who  do  n't 
care  to  inquire  too  closely  into  poor  people's 
poverty. 

"  '  During  these  exciting  times,  very  many  old 
paintings  of  great  value  have  found  their  way  into 
the  public  markets,  and  I  have  been  busy  buying 
and  trading  in  works  of  art,  until  I  find  myself 
loaded  down  in  more  ways  than  one.  All  of  it 
good  property,  but  it  cannot  be  used  from  this 
place,  and  I  have  quite  as  much  as  I  care  to  own, 


516  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

unless  it  is  something  very  rare.  But  to  under- 
stand what  I  am  talking  about,  you  should  see  my 
collection.' 

"  All  this  time  we  had  been  sitting  at  the  table, 
and  as  we  now  withdrew  to  the  room  in  the  rear, 
he  turned  one  of  the  pictures  around  so  as  to  get 
at  the  back,  and  in  a  few  moments  separated  from 
it  a  most  beautiful  painting,  a  Guido  Reni. 

"'You  see/  said  he,  'that  one  work  of  art 
springs  from  another.  It  is  easily  explained.  I 
found  this  exquisite  specimen  of  that  divine  mas- 
ter in  the  hands  of  a  civilized  savage  who  did  not 
like  its  dark  color,  and  was  anxious  to  exchange  it 
for  something  artistic  that  I  could  paint  for  him, 
and  I  gratified  his  desires.  He  did  not  care  to 
read  the  name  of  the  artist  of  his  painting,  or, 
indeed,  to  read  anything,  and  I  concluded  that 
I  could  read  the  artist  before  I  found  the  name. 
When  it  was  my  own,  I  searched  for  the  name, 
and  found  it  just  there,  and  a  genuine  Guido  Reni, 
a  priceless  picture.' 

"  From  the  back  of  still  another  painting  he 
showed  me  a  Raphael  in  all  its  exquisite  coloring, 
a  painting  that  would  have  delighted  emperors 
and  artists  alike.  A  Rubens  appeared  in  the  same 
way  from  a  similar  combination,  and  my  astonish- 
ment was  so  great  that  he  stopped  to  explain. 

"  'These  paintings,'  said  he,  'of  the  old  masters, 
go  to  the  salesroom,  and  not  finding  a  buyer, 
seek  the  secluded  shelves  of  the  pawn  shop.  The 
cattle  who  keep  such  places  know  nothing  of  art, 


SISTINE  MADONNA.     (RAPHAEL.) 


UNIVERSITY 

CALIFO 


THESE  PAINTINGS. 

and  care  less  ;  all  they  desire  is  their  per  cent. 
Very  well,  how  shall  we  work  these  hiders  of 
goods,  so  often  without  a  title  ?  If  we  could  only 
find  the  real  owners,  it  would  afford  us  pleasure  to 
deal  with  them,  no  doubt.  Sometimes  I  have 
been  successful  in  rinding  the  owners,  and  in 
helping  them  to  withdraw  their  painting,  and  then 
buying  it  ;  but  generally  I  must  go  a  number  of 
times  and  try  to  buy  some  other  picture,  and 
try  to  trade  for  the  one  wanted  until  the  best 
terms  are  reached,  and  then  buy.  Often  the 
picture  is  without  a  frame,  or  I  can  trade  the  frame 
away.  Then  I  make  a  canvass  for  a  painting  the 
same  size,  and  fit  them  to  work  in  a  frame  which  I 
may  have  made  from  some  other  old  frame,  and  I 
paint  something  to  stand  in  front  of  the  old  mas- 
ter, and  select  for  him  his  company  ;  and  as  you 
might  say,  introduce  him  to  his  admiring  friends. 

"  '  All  these  paintings  are  double  in  this  way  and 
live  very  harmoniously  together.  But  I  must  take 
you  to  my  true  collection.' 

"  We  went  up-stairs  into  a  room,  as  it  seemed  to 
me,  towards  the  street.  He  opened  a  drawer,  and 
taking  out  two  coiled  wax  candles,  each  of  which 
looked  like  a  coiled-up  rattlesnake  just  as  it  is 
ready  to  spring  and  bite,  lit  the  end  in  the 
centre  where  the  snake's  head  would  be,  and 
handed  me  one.  He  then  went  to  what  appeared 
to  me  to  be  an  ordinary  washstand,  and  opening 
its  doors,  got  down  on  his  hands  and  knees  and 
said,  '  Follow  me,'  and  crawled  out  of  sight.  I 


518  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

followed  him  as  he  had  commanded,  and  when  I 
reached  him,  he  was  still  on  his  knees,  holding 
something  in  his  hands  which  by  the  dim  light  I 
could  not  make  out.  He  was  evidently  going 
through  some  religious  service  ;  for  he  was  mut- 
tering to  himself  and  crossing  himself,  without 
paying  any  attention  to  me.  I  concluded  that  he 
was  some  old  Catholic  religionist  or  fanatic  who 
had  brought  me  into  this  darkness  to  impress 
me  with  his  devotion.  I  stood  on  my  knees  until 
they  were  weary  waiting  for  him  to  finish  his  de- 
votions, and  then  rested  them  by  sitting  on  the 
floor.  He  paid  me  not  the  least  attention.  I  could 
see  nothing  in  the  room  except  some  old  boxes 
covered  with  dust.  I  could  not  make  out  whether 
there  was  a  ceiling  to  the  room  or  not.  The  only 
thing  I  was  certain  about  was  the  floor,  and  that 
was  made  of  rough  boards  very  imperfectly  joined, 
and  poorly  nailed  down. 

"His  devotions  eventually  came  to  an  end,  and 
then  he  held  up  before  me  that  which  he  had  in  his 
hands,  and  before  speaking,  he  bowed  his  head  rev- 
erently to  the  image,  and  then  crossed  himself. 

"  *  This  is  the  divinest  work  of  art,'  said  he,  '  ever 
emanating  from  the  hand  of  man.  Here  is  divine 
inspiration  in  art  direct  from  the  great  Fountain- 
head.  God  spoke  to  the  author  of  this  as  he  spoke 
to  Moses  on  the  mount,  and  as  the  hand  of  Moses  was 
guided  in  writing  the  law,  so  was  the  hand  of  this 
artist  directed  by  the  Author  of  all  art,  the  Author 
of  all  beauty,  and  the  Author  of  all  goodness.' 


MICHAEL  ANGELO.  5^ 

"  I  was  now  straining  my  eyes  to  collect  enough 
light  to  comprehend  what  he  was  holding  before 
me. 

"  '  Ah  ! '  said  he,  '  you  cannot  see  the  magnificent, 

artistic  production  from  the  hand  of  Michael  Angelo 

—  the  marvelous  descent  from  the  cross  wrought 

with  adorable  skill  in   ivory  by  the  hand  of  the 

master  of  all  arts  himself.' 

"  He  had  a  way  of  lifting  it  a  little  higher  than 
his  head,  and  then  letting  it  gently  down  before 
him,  and  making  a  bow  to  it,  and  then  crossing 
himself.  This  seemed  like  a  part  of  his  adoration 
ceremony.  After  this  he  held  it  close  to  me,  so 
that  I  could  see  it  was  an  exquisite  piece  of  art,  all 
that  he  had  claimed  for  it.  But  I  must  admit  that 
up  in  that  old  loft,  with  our  miserable  light,  I  did 
not  appreciate  his  enthusiastic  and  reverent  adora- 
tion of  a  piece  of  workmanship,  though  it  might 
be  direct  from  the  hands  of  Michael  Angelo,  prophet 
of  the  highest  art.  Of  course  I  tried  to  make  him 
and  myself  believe  that  I  was  competent  to  appre- 
ciate that  it  was  really  wonderful,  and  possibly  di- 
vine in  some  way.  The  fact  was,  however,  that  I 
then  thought  it  was  wonderful  to  be  up  in  that  old 
loft,  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  on  the  street  of  the 
red  republicans. 

"But  it  was  quite  evident  that  his  treasure  was  of 
great  value  ;  for  he  did  not  trust  me  to  take  it  in 
my  hands.  After  we  had  looked  at  it  again  and 
again,  and  talked  of  its  value  as  a  work  of  art,  be- 
cause there  was  nothing  like  it  in  the  whole  world, 


520  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

and  also  of  its  commercial  value,  far  above  one 
hundred  thousand  dollars,  he  replaced  its  cloth 
covering,  and  standing  up  secreted  it  in  its  hiding 
place  between  the  two  rafters,  where  no  person 
would  ever  think  of  looking  for  anything  of  value. 
He  then  showed  me  paintings  from  the  hands  of 
the  most  celebrated  artists,  packed  away  in  strong 
boxes  with  solid  covers.  It  would  be  impossible 
for  me  to  give  the  names  of  all  the  artists  enumer- 
ated, or  to  describe  the  wonderful  paintings.  Suf- 
fice it  to  say  there  were  works  from  such  masters 
as  Raphael,  Guido-  Reni,  Titian,  Leonardo  da  Vinci, 
Van  Dyck,  Murillo,  Rubens,  Rembrandt,  and  from 
more  modern  artists,  like  Turner,  Reynolds,  Land- 
seer,  and  others  still  more  modern. 

""One  painting,  however,  of  great  beauty  com- 
mends itself  to  special  mention,  not  because  of  its 
superior  artistic  merits,  for  there  were  others  more 
worthy,  but  because  its  history,  if  told,  would 
aid  in  understanding  how  works  of  art  sometimes 
change  ownership.  He  was  holding  the  paintings 
before  me  so  that  I  could  get  something  of  an  idea 
by  our  dim  light  of  their  merits,  when  he  came  to 
one  that  seemed  to  be  an  old  acquaintance.  No, 
hardly  that,  but  one  I  had  formerly  seen  a  number 
of  times.  I  tried  again  and  again  to  recall  where 
I  had  seen  this  beautiful  young  duchess.  But  in 
vain  were  all  my  efforts.  I  retained,  however,  a 
very  distinct  image  of  the  painting  on  my  mind, 
which  enabled  me  to  continue  my  effort  to  recall 
it,  One  day  it  popped  into  my  mind,  of  its  own 


MADONNA,    (CARLO  DOLCE.) 


THE  ART  CONNOISSEUR.  $2I 

accord,  and  I  knew  it  at  once  as  a  painting  which 
I  had  seen  in  the  collection  of  the  Grand  Duke  at 
Vienna,  Austria.  While  the  man  in  charge  had 
his  attention  called  to  some  other  part  of  the  build- 
ing, this  exquisite  piece  of  art  had  been  cut  out  of 
its  frame  and  carried  away,  and  no  trace  of  it  could 
be  found.  Did  the  thief  send  it  to  Paris  and  offer 
it  for  sale  after  it  had  been  framed  anew,  or  was  it 
deposited  in  a  pawn  shop  with  other  old  rubbish 
until  the  keen  and  knowing  eyes  of  our  connois- 
seur, our  old  charcoal  merchant,  detected  its  real 
merits,  and  bought  it  for  a  song,  or  exchanged  for 
it  one  of  his  own  production  ?  Never  will  I  be 
able  to  answer. 

"I  was  amazed  at  the  vast  wealth  of  art  hid  so 
close  to  the  greatest  magazine  of  destruction  in 
Paris,  the  red  republicans.  When  I  gave  ex- 
pression to  my  thoughts,  he  only  shrugged  his 
shoulders,  and  said  nothing,  as  much  as  to  say  he 
could  not  help  it.  I  was  really  too  much  aston- 
ished at  what  I  had  seen  to  appreciate  it.  Seeing 
it  in  the  place  I  did  and  under  the  circumstances 
which  surrounded  me,  not  only  belittled  the  art, 
but  it  also  smothered  my  powers  to  appreciate  it. 
Other  feelings  filled  me  before  I  came  to  the  art 
wonders,  and  in  the  darkness  and  gloom  of  that 
old  loft  they  would  not  give  place  to  the  aesthetic 
feelings  of  appreciation  which  accompany  sunlight 
and  pleasure.  These  feelings  which  are  opposed 
to  the  incongruous  cannot  be  made  to  take  pos- 
session of  our  highest  nature  when  the  incongru- 


522  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

ous  is  immovably  present,  and  we  must  therefore 
be  content  with  a  partial  appreciation  of  what  de- 
mands higher  consideration." 

"  Could  you  form  any  idea,  Doctor,"  asked  Clar- 
ence, "as  to  the  value  of  the  works  of  art?" 

"That  question  hardly  occurred  to  me  at  the 
time,"  I  answered,  "for  although,  during  the  three 
years  I  was  in  Europe,  I  spent  much  time  in  visit 
ing  all  the  great  art  galleries  and  learning  all  I 
could  about  art,  I  could  not  think  of  myself  as  a 
connoisseur,  or  one  competent  to  judge  of  art  and 
its  value.  My  way  of  looking  at  art  had  been  to 
select  in  each  room  or  group  of  paintings  the 
finest,  if  possible,  and  look  at  it,  and  study  it  until 
I  remembered  every  part,  and  could  think  of  it 
without  the  painting  before  me,  and  at  the  same 
time  connect  the  author's  name  with  the  paint- 
ing, so  that  when  I  saw  another  painting  by  the 
same  author,  I  might  know  it.  Study  art  in  this 
way,  and  at  each  visit  take  something  home  with 
you,  and  your  memory  becomes  an  art  apartment 
where  you  can  retire  at  times  to  contemplate  the 
beautiful.  The  aesthetic  value  and  not  commer- 
cial or  cash  value  of  works  of  art,  is  expressed  on 
their  faces,  and  for  this  reason,  I  knew  but  little 
on  the  subject  you  ask,  and  was  not  prepared  to 
form  a  judgment.  And  when  the  charcoal  mer- 
chant suggested  that  their  value  was  more  than  a 
million  dollars,  I  agreed  with  him. 

"  I  was  fully  prepared,  however,  when  we  returned 
from    our   inspection    of  the   charcoal  merchant's 


VALUE   COMES  FROM   USEFULNESS.  533 

treasures,  to  appreciate  the  beautiful  little  prin- 
cess who  came  and  stood  by  me  while  her  father 
related  how  he  had  secured  some  of  the  most 
valuable  paintings,  and  how  his  mind  had  con- 
stantly been  contemplating  the  wealth  and  posi- 
tion they  would  give  his  little  daughter  some 
day. 

"  '  Do  you  think,  Doctor,'  said  she,  '  that  they 
will  be  of  great  value  to  me,  as  papa  has  sug- 
gested ? ' 

"  '  Yes,  provided  you  can  give  them  a  place  where 
they  can  contribute  their  usefulness  to  society,' 
said  I.  'Value  comes  from  usefulness,  and  as  they 
are  now  situated,  this  is  denied  them.' 

"'We  are  glad,'  said  she,  'to  hear  you  say  so, 
are  we  not,  papa  ?  and  now  I  must  tell  you  what 
we  have  been  talking  about,  because  we  think  you 
are  so  good  to  come  and  see  us  three  times,  and 
you  come  from  the  country  of  the  great  Washing- 
ton, and  you  can  aid  us  if  you  will.' 

"At  this  point  she  gently  seated  herself  on  my 
knee,  and  looked  me  in  the  face  so  delightfully 
child-like,  and  continued  to  talk  with  so  much 
wisdom,  that  I  was  both  surprised  and  astonished, 
and  yet  delighted.  While  she  talked,  her  father 
listened  attentively,  and  with  undoubted  admira- 
tion and  approval,  indicated  by  smiles  and  fre- 
quent nods  of  the  head. 

"  '  We  have  been  talking  over,'  said  she,  '  what  is 
best  to  do,  because  pretty  soon,  papa  thinks  I  shall 
grow  rapidly,  and  he  does  not  want  me  to  grow  to 


524  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

a  young  woman  here  among  the  red  republicans  , 
and  since  you  are  our  dearest  friend  in  Paris,  and 
intend  to  go  to  your  own  country,  we  have  been 
thinking  we  might  go  to  America  with  you,  and 
escape  from  these  terrible  Reds.  We  wanted  to 
ask  you  what  you  thought  ;  for  we  have  the  great- 
est confidence  in  your  friendship  and  your  ability 
to  help  us.'  To  all  this,  the  father  fully  assented. 

"  Appealed  to  in  this  kindly,  confiding  manner  by 
one  so  beautiful  and  by  heredity  so  noble,  yet  by 
surrounding  circumstances  so  much  in  need  of  aid, 
is  it  any  wonder  that  I  felt  impelled  to  give  their 
needs  my  most  careful  consideration  ? 

"  *  It  is  my  opinion^'  said  I,  '  that  your  treasures 
of  art  alone,  if  placed  on  exhibition  in  New  York 
City,  would  give,  you  a  lasting  income,  even  at  a 
small  admittance  fee.  Possibly  they  could  be  sold 
to  the  city  museum  at  a  price  which,  put  at  in- 
terest, would  be  still  more  valuable,  and  entail  less 
risk.  Undoubtedly,  if  you  would  open  a  studio  in 
the  city,  you  would  have  all  the  work  which  you 
could  do  at  prices  twice  or  three  times  as  high  as 
they  pay  in  Paris/ 

4< '  That  would  please  me,'  said  the  charcoal  mer- 
chant ;  '  for  I  love  my  art,  and  to  work  makes  me 
happy.' 

"  *  But  we  must  think  this  over,'  said  I,  '  and  see 
what  is  best  for  you  and  this  little  princess.  It 
would  be  a  great  gain  to  my  country  to  get  such 
an  artist  to  join  us  as  a  citizen.  We  would  be 
very  proud  to  have  you  with  us,  and  also  to  have 


WRITING  LETTERS  IN  GERMAN.  52$ 

your  wonderful  collection  of  art  ;  but  what  my 
country  desires  and  what  would  add  to  my  indi- 
vidual pleasure,  cannot  rightly  come  up  first  for 
consideration.' 

"  I  asked  the  father  about  his  relations.  His  two 
brothers  were  living  near  Lyons,  and  these  were 
his  only  near  kindred.  They  seldom  came  to 
Paris,  and  he  never  went  to  Lyons. 

"When  I  asked  him  if  he  remembered  his  Ger- 
man so  as  to  speak  it  with  ease,  the  little  princess,  to 
my  surprise  and  delight,  answered,  in  German,  for 
him.  Her  pronunciation  and  accent  of  the  Ger- 
man were  quite  as  attractive  as  her  French. 

"  *  O,  yes,'  said  she,  '  we  often  visit  together  in 
the  German  language  ;  for  then  I  am  a  princess 
from  Germany  visiting  Paris,  and  there  are  so 
many  peculiar  ways  of  the  French  people  that  I 
wish  to  ask  questions  about,  and  I  am  so  pleased 
to  meet  a  French  gentleman  who  can  talk  my  own 
language,  and  explain  them  to  me.  You  see,  at 
such  times  I  prefer  to  talk  my  mother  tongue,  in 
which  I  can  best  understand  everything.' 

"  '  Do  you  ever  write  letters  in  German,'  I  asked, 
'  to  your  grandmother  ? ' 

" '  No,'  she  answered,  half  sadly,  *  they  have 
never  written  to  us,  and  the  letters  my  own 
mother  sent  to  her  home,  papa  says  have  never 
been  answered  ;  and  for  that  reason,  he  has  never 
written  to  any  of  the  family.  We  heard  through 
an  officer  in  the  army  that  my  mother's  father  was 
dead,  a  year  ago.  My  mother  had  two  sisters,  but 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

they  were  older,  and  were  married  before  she  came 
to  Paris  to  live.  I  sometimes  think  that  I  should 
like  to  know  them,  and  my  grandmother,  too.  You 
understand  that  I  could  not  know  my  mother  very 
well,  for  I  was  only  one  year  old  when  she  left  me 
alone  with  papa,  and  I  found  him  all  I  desired 
when  I  was  so  young.  I  never  knew  my  loss  until 
later.  It  seems  to  me  now,  at  times,  as  if  my  loss 
was  very  great,  greater  than  I  ever  knew  ;  for  I  so 
often  feel  the  need  of  a  loving  woman  friend,  a 
companionship  better  than  any  I  have  ever  known 
—  a  dear  loving  woman  who  could  love  me  for 
myself,  for  what  I  am,  and  what  I  have  an  ambi- 
tion to  become,  and  also  love  me  because  I  am 
blood  of  her  blood  and  part  of  her  very  self.' 

"  Her  pronunciation  of  German  and  her  pathos 
reminded  me  of  the  preacher  whom  I  was  accus- 
tomed to  hear  in  the  Emperor's  Chapel  in  Vienna, 
Austria.  I  thought  then  that  he  could  speak  the 
most  melodious,  heart-searching  words  of  any  per- 
son I  ever  heard,  but  now  I  was  satisfied  that  this 
little  princess  sitting  upon  my  knee,  made  a  deeper 
impression  and  used  the  language  to  better  effect. 
The  French  is  the  language  of  science  and  polite 
society,  but  the  German  is  emphatically  the  lan- 
guage of  the  home,  the  family,  and  the  affections  ; 
and  never  did  I  so  fully  appreciate  this  as  while 
listening  to  the  little  princess. 

"  *  Do  you  think,  Doctor,'  she  continued  in  Ger- 
man, in  the  same  pathetic  tone  which  seemed  to 
drop  tears  among  the  words,  '  that  it  would  be 


MY  FATHER  IS  MY  ALL. 

wrong  for  me  to  desire  to  see  my  mother's  kindred, 
my  grandmother,  and  my  two  aunts  ?  You  know 
that  my  father  is  my  all,  and  I  love  him  most  ten- 
derly ;  but  could  I  not  love  and  admire  him,  for  he 
is  a  great  artist,  just  as  much  if  I  knew  my  moth- 
er's folks  ?  Would  it  be  an  advantage  to  me  to 
know  the  places  my  mother  knew  ? ' 

" '  Yes,'  I  answered,  'there  can  be  no  doubt  in 
the  mind  of  any  person  that  to  know  your  grand- 
mother and  your  aunts  and  the  places  your  mother 
knew  would  be  an  advantage  to  you,  and  knowing 
them  would,  no  doubt,  enable  you  to  love  your 
father  more.  Do  you  know  your  grandmother's 
post-office  address?' 

"' Indeed  I  do/  she  answered,  'for  I  have  often 
written  it  upon  cards.'  She  very  soon  brought  me 
two  or  three  of  these  cards,  and  I  slipped  one  into 
my  pocket* 

"  *  But,  Doctor,'  she  continued,  '  do  you  really 
think  it  will  be  wisest  for  us  to  go  to  America 
with  you  ?  We  depend  very  much  upon  you.' 

"  *  O,  I  do  n't  know,'  I  replied  ;  '  we  must  take 
time  to.  think  this  over  before  we  come  to  a  con- 
clusion.' 

"  It  was  now  quite  late,  and  we  heard  the  police- 
man who  came  to  escort  me  out  of  the  street,  and 
after  most  cordially  saying  good  night,  I  returned 
to  my  hotel.  After  sleeping  over  the  subject  and 
thinking  it  over  carefully  a  few  times,  I  determined 
to  write  to  the  grandmother.  She  had  lost  her 
husband,  and  in  all  probability  was  in  need  of  com- 

34  ' 


t;28  TffE  HOLY  OF  HOLI&S. 

panionship,  and  the  sight  of  her  grandchild,  the 
little  princess,  would  awaken  all  her  former  affec- 
tion for  her  daughter.  I  therefore  wrote  her,  not 
asking  jf  she  wished  her  granddaughter  to  come 
and  live  with  her,  but  simply  stating  that  I  was  an 
American  physician,  and  having  lived  in  Berlin, 
gave  her  reference  to  a  friend  there,  a  professor  in 
the  university  ;  that  I  had  been  so  very  fortunate 
as  to  meet  her  little  granddaughter  in  Paris,  and 
her  father ;  that  we  Americans  thought  him  a 
great  artist,  and  were  talking  of  taking  him  to  our 
country  with  all  his  works  of  art,  which  we  very 
much  needed  ;  that  of  course  his  daughter,  the 
little  princess,  who  looked  so  much  like  her  mother, 
and  who  had  such  elegant  French  manners  and 
such  a  loving  German  heart,  would  go  with  him, 
but  that  I  thought  it  would  be  best  to  write  the 
grandmother  before  we  sailed  for  America,  so  that 
she  would  know  that  a  letter  addressed  in  my  care, 
New  York  City,  U.  S.,  America,  would  always 
reach  her  granddaughter. 

"  During  the  day  I  called  on  the  charcoal-mer- 
chant, and  we  had  a  royal  good  time.  They  were 
delighted  to  have  me  come  and  see  them  without 
an  invitation.  We  talked  about  going  to  America, 
and  they  were  both  delighted  with  the  prospect* 

uThe  little  princess  came  and  seated  herself  so 
confidingly  upon  my  knee,  and  looking  up  into  my 
face,  said,  '  Then  we  shall  always  have  you  for  our 
nearest  neighbor,  and  your  little  girl  will  be  my  sis- 
ter, and  your  little  boy  my  brother,  won't  they?' 


TO  SPEAK  AMERICAN.  529 

"'Yes/  said  I,  'that  will  be  the  best  arrange- 
ment we  can  make,  and  they  shall  teach  you  to 
speak  English,  and  play  in  English.' 

"  '  O  no  ! '  said  she,  '  let  them  teach  me  to  speak 
American  and  to  play  American,  for  we  are  not  so 
fond  of  the  English  as  of  the  Americans.' 

"  'Certainly/  said  I,  'we  shall  all  be  Americans, 
and  speak  American.  But  what  shall  we  say 
about  the  works  of  art  ?  I  forgot  yesterday,  when 
we  were  talking  about  it,  that  our  government 
puts  a  duty,  or  government  tax,  on  all  works  of 
art.  I  think  it  is  something  like  one  fifth  or  one 
sixth  of  the  value  of  the  paintings,  and  I  fear  this 
would  be  a  great  objection.' 

"This  announcement  made  the  charcoal  mer- 
chant shake  his  head.  '  Bad  laws/  said  he,  '  bad 
laws  for  a  free  country.  Art  should  forever  and 
ever  remain  untaxed,  as  free  as  sunlight.' 

"  But  we  soon  dismissed  this  subject,  for  we  de- 
termined to  celebrate  the  day  visiting  the  art  gal- 
leries. A  carriage  was  ordered,  and  soon  the 
little  princess  was  elegantly  dressed,  and  so,  too, 
was  her  father.  I  never  before  saw  so  great  a 
change  in  a  man's  appearance  and  manners.  He 
was  now  the  elegant  French  gentleman,  scholar,  and 
artist  of  the  saloon,  replete  with  wit  and  wisdom  on 
art,  poetry,  politics,  and  history.  The  little  prin- 
cess enjoyed  her  father's  change  of  feeling,  and 
joined  in  his  vivacity.  She,  however,  was  the  per- 
sonage of  distinction  in  the  party,  and  people 
turned  to  look  at  her,  as  much  as  to  say,  '  Why 


530  TIfE   HOLY  OF  IIOLT&S. 

look  at  these  imitations  or  representations  of  nat- 
ure for  pleasure,  when  here  in  our  midst  goes  nat- 
ure's most  beautiful  and  charming  product?' 
Never  did  I  so  thoroughly  enjoy  a  day  among 
works  of  art.  I  had  a  guide  who  knew  all  art  and 
its  authors  ;  a  profound  and  aesthetic  teacher,  who 
could  explain  everything  to  one's  delight,  and  in 
addition  by  my  side  walked  the  little  princess, 
which  in  itself  would  have  been  pleasure  enough. 
We  finished  the  round  of  pleasure  by  attending  a 
concert  in  the  evening,  which  for  delicacy  of  inter- 
pretation of  the  masters  of  melody  and  harmony, 
could  not  have  been  surpassed. 

"Think  of  my  astonishment  the  next  morning 
when  a  gentleman  in  all  the  gold  lace  of  the  Ger- 
man legation  of  state  called  upon  me  to  say  that 
he  was  commanded  by  telegram  to  call  and  re- 
quest me  not  to  quit  Paris  before  I  had  received 
important  letters  from  Germany.  That  his  gov- 
ernment would  do  everything  in  its  power  to  aid 
in  any  plans  I  might  have  for  assisting  my  artist 
friend  to  return  to  Germany.  Indeed,  that  his 
government  would  take  entire  charge  of  all  goods 
in  boxes  which  I  might  deem  best  to  have  sent  to 
Germany,  without  expense  to  the  owner.  He 
bowed  himself  out  of  my  presence  in  a  most  dis- 
tinguished manner,  and  I  thought  to  myself, 
'The  way  is  opening.'  The  letter  came  promptly, 
and  in  it  the  grandmother  distributed  the  tears  of 
sorrow  with  every  sentence.  But  her  anguish  was 
greatest  where  she  exclaimed, — 


PLANS   TO   GO    TO  AMERICA.  53! 

"  *  O  Doctor,  do  not  take  my  granddaughter  way 
over  beyond  the  great  ocean,  where  I  can  never 
see  her  again!  America  is  another  world  ;  do  not 
take  her  from  me.  Let  her  quit  Paris  for  Germany, 
and  let  her  father  come  with  her  and  bring  all  his 
works  of  art.  His  paintings,  the  most  beautiful 
creations  of  an  artist,  adorn  many  palaces  in  Ger- 
many, and  everywhere  they  are  admired  and 
adored.  Hundreds  would  gladly  avail  themselves 
of  his  skill  in  art,  if  he  will  only  return  to  us.  He 
has  more  friends  in  Germany  than  ever  he  had, 
and  he  will  be  received  with  the  affection  of  old 
friends  and  kindred.' 

"  The  letter  demonstrated  that  my  plan  to  hear 
from  her  was  a  good  one,  and  that  proposing  to 
take  the  little  princess  to  America  had  a  good 
effect.  When  I  reached  the  store  of  the  charcoal- 
merchant,  the  old  woman  was  in  possession,  and 
was  selling  to  some  of  her  customers.  I  soon 
found  my  way  beyond  the  charcoal-screen  to 
where  the  little  princess  and  her  father  were  dis- 
cussing the  advantages  of  going  to  America,  and 
there  was  nothing  in  their  minds,  at  that  moment, 
to  keep  them  from  sailing  with  all  their  art  treas- 
ure to  the  United  States.  I  joined  with  them  for 
a  time  in  their  plans,  and  almost  like  children  we 
allowed  our  imagination  to  picture  their  future  in 
America,  the  land  of  Washington. 

"  Then  it  occurred  to  me  to  narrate  my  astonish- 
ment in  the  early  morning,  when  the  gentleman 
in  gold  lace  called  upon  me.  This  surprised  them 


532  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

not  a  little,  and  especially  when  I  told  them  he 
was  from  the  German  legation. 

"  '  What  would  you  think/  said  I  to  the  princess, 
'  to  receive  a  letter  from  your  grandmother  in 
Germany  ?' 

" '  O,  I  should  be  delighted!'  she  replied,  and 
then  added  thoughtfully,  '  if  it  was  a  nice  letter. 
But  what  makes  you  ask  that  question  ? ' 

"  '  Because,'  I  answered,  *  it  seemed  to  me  that 
she  would  be  glad  to  hear  from  you,  and  to  satisfy 
myself  I  wrote  to  her,  and  shortly  after  the  man 
in  gold  lace  called  upon  me,  her  reply  came.' 

*' '  And  was  it,  dear  Doctor,  a  nice  letter?'  was 
her  quick  inquiry. 

"  *  Indeed,  I  think  it  a  very  good  letter,'  I  an- 
swered, '  because  she  shows  the  deepest  interest 
and  affection  for  you,  and  insists  that  you  should 
come  and  live  with  her  rather  than  go  to  America 
with  me.' 

"  '  But  what  do  you  think,  Doctor?'  she  asked. 
'We  have  agreed,  you  understand,  to  submit  this 
question  to  you.' 

"'  Yes,'  said  the  charcoal  merchant,  'this  is  for 
you  to  decide,  not  for  somebody  in  Paris  or  some- 
body in  Germany,  but  yourself;  for  you  know 
both  America  and  Germany.' 

"'I  would  like  to  be  selfish  enough,'  said  I,  'to 
take  my  little  princess,'  taking  her  in  my  arms, 
'and  you  and  all  your  immortal  art  creations  to 
my  own  country  ;  but  I  must  ask  you  to  read  the 
letter,  and  then  I  can  answer  better  than  now,' 


THE  PRINCESS  RESTORED  TO  KINDRED. 

"  Carefully  he  read  the  letter,  the  little  princess 
aiding  him,  and  when  they  came  to  the  part  where 
the  grandmother  called  them  to  come  to  her  and 
for  me  not  to  take  her  granddaughter  beyond  the 
ocean  to  another  world  where  she  could  never  see 
her  again,  tears  clouded  their  vision,  and  heart 
throbs  swayed  their  bodies  under  deep  emotion. 
When  the  father  had  finished  reading  all  the  in- 
ducements held  out  for  their  return  to  Germany, 
and  had  wiped  away  his  tears,  he  asked, 

"  *  Do  you,  Doctor,  really  think  it  is  best  for  us 
to  go  to  Germany  ? ' 

"  '  Yes,'  I  replied,  *  if  you  place  the  responsibility 
of  deciding  on  my  shoulders,  then  you  will  go  to 
Germany  ;  because  I  would  be  wronging  this  my 
dear  little  princess,  if  I  deprived  her  of  the  good 
to  result  from  the  affection  of  her  grandmother 
and  her  German  kindred.  Your  art  will  take  care 
of  you  in  any  country,  but  she  can  best  be  cared 
for  by  her  kindred,  where  her  family  is  known  and 
their  high  position  in  society  fully  acknowledged.' 

"  '  Then  we  will  go  Germany,'  he  replied  ;  '  for  I 
have  more  confidence  in  your  judgment  than  in 
my  own  ;  and  the  sooner  we  are  off  the  better.  I 
hope  we  may  get  away  from  Paris  before  you  go 
to  America.  It  would  be  so  dismal  here  without 
you  to  cheer  us.' 

"  The  dear  little  princess  acquiesced  in  the  decree 
to  go  to  Germany,  but  not  without  many  tears. 
She  became  exceedingly  tender  and  affectionate  at 
the  thought  of  our  parting. 


534  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

" '  Ah,  yes,  it  is  so  easy,  papa,  to  say,  "  Do  n't  shed 
any  more  tears, "  she  would  reply,  '  but  the  Doc- 
tor is  the  only  person  I  have  ever  learned  to  love 
beside  yourself,  and  he  has  been  so  very  kind  to 
us  that  I  am  glad  I  love  him,  and  can  shed  tears  at 
parting  with  him.  He  is  an  American,  and  I  have 
a  right  to  love  him  ;  for  I  am  French,  and  all 
Frenchmen  love  Americans, ,  and  you  know  that 
you  love  him  and  trust  him  more  than  any  French- 
man, and  you  are  only  shedding  your  tears  in- 
wardly at  parting  with  him,  which  I  cannot  do. 
I  'm  glad  that  my  tears  show  how  much  I  love  him  ; 
for  I  fear  I  shall  never  see  him  again.' 

"  *  Don't  mention  that,  my  daughter,'  he  would 
reply  ;  *  for  we  must  not  think  it.' 

"  But  little  pleasure  mingled  with  our  sadness  that 
day  while  we  consulted  how  best  to  make  the  nec- 
essary changes  required.  Our  affectionate  friend- 
ship of  so  short  a  growth,  and  yet  so  vigorous, 
could,  after  a  few  days,  live  only  a  latent  life.  The 
few  days  that  remained  to  us  were  full  of  sad  af- 
fection, of  anxiety  for  each  other,  and  of  thought- 
ful consideration  of  what  we  could  do  one  for  the 
other. 

" '  How  good  you  have  been,  dear  Doctor/  the 
little  princess  would  say,  'to  bring  us  again  to  our 
friends  and  kindred.  You  have  been  our  savior 
just  like  Washington  in  his  day,  and  just  like 
Washburn  in  our  day,  and  how  can  we  ever  do 
enough  for  you  ?  Forever  you  shall  dwell  near  to 
our  hearts.' 


BLOOD    WILL    TELL,  535 

"  After  a  few  days  of  loving  sadness,  all  was  ar- 
ranged. The  many  tokens  of  affection  at  our 
last  parting  may  be  passed  in  silence  ;  for  it  is 
too  sacred  for  repetition. 

"  It  was  a  lesson  in  life  and  a  pleasure  to  know 
that  entire  strangers  could  so  soon  become  thus 
deeply  interested  in  each  other's  welfare,  and  ac- 
quire such  firm  affection  for  each  other.  We 
had  lived  and  loved  together,  and  now  our  ways 
parted. 

"  Letters  came  to  me  in  a  few  days  after  their  de- 
parture from  grandmother,  father,  and  daughter, 
expressing  thanks  and  gratitude  for  my  kindness, 
and  urging  me  to  make  them  a  visit.  But  my 
work  in  that  direction  was  accomplished,  and  duty 
called  me  to  my  own  greatly  beloved  and  magnifi- 
cent country.  . 

"To  me  she  will  always  remain  the  little  affection- 
ate princess,  whose  movements  expressed  elegant 
refinement  and  the  poetry  of  motion.  I  cannot 
think  of  her  without  reflecting  that  generations  of 
educated,  refined,  and  cultured  parents  are  neces- 
sary before  such  a  beautiful  and  gifted  creature  is 
possible,  and  this  only  aids  in  demonstrating  that 
'  BLOOD  WILL  TELL.'  " 


CHAPTER  X. 

SAVE  OUR  BOYS. 

I  WAS  surprised  one  day  to  receive  a  little  note 
which  ran  thus  : 

"DEAR  DOCTOR:  We  intend  to  have  a  picnic 
next  Friday.  Can't  you  go  with  us  ?  The  steamer 
starts  at  9  A.  M.,  and  we  will  furnish  the  lunch. 

"With  love, 
"Your  little  friend,  JULIA." 

Ordinarily,  one  would  want  more  of  an  expla- 
nation ;  for  it  would  be  pleasant,  at  least,  to  know 
who  made  up  the  we  that  was  to  furnish  the  lunch, 
and  where  we  were  going,  and  how  long  we  were  to 
remain  ;  but,  without  having  these  and  other  ques- 
tions answered,  I  replied  that  I  thought  it  possible 
that  I  could  accept  the  kind  invitation.  I  felt  that 
in  all  probability,  an  explanation  would  be  furnished 
me  as  soon  as  necessary,  and  to  my  great  satisfac- 
tion Julia,  grown  almost  to  a  young  lady,  called  at 
my  office  saying  that  her  mother,  having  learned 
that  I  accepted  the  invitation,  sent  her  to  explain 
that  it  was  an  invitation  from  Julia  herself  and  some 
of  her  young  friends.  We  were  to  go  on  a  steamer 
taking  a  Sunday-school  picnic,  and  after  we  reached 
(536) 


THE  BEAUTIFUL   FALLS. 

the  grove,  we  were  to  have  our  lunch  together,  by 
ourselves,  in  a  secluded  spot,  where  we  would  not 
be  disturbed.  The  hills  on  either  side  of  the  lake 
were  covered  with  deepest  green  of  meadow  or 
forest,  except  where  a  field  of  ripened  grain  gave 
the  beautiful  yellow  of  harvest  time. 

As  soon  as  we  reached  the  landing,  our  little 
company,  the  same  that  met  at  my  office,  lost  no 
time  in  passing  over  the  intervening  space  to  the 
deep  gorge,  where  the  perpendicular  walls,  hun- 
dreds of  feet  high,  hem  in  the  little  stream,  which 
makes  the  beautiful  falls.  The  thin  sheet  of  water, 
from  the  rock  above,  spreads  out,  as  it  descends, 
like  a  bridal  veil,  and  falls  almost  without  noise 
into  the  pool  below.  For  a  time  the  voices  of 
many  cheerful,  laughing  visitors  and  companions 
were  echoed  and  re-echoed  by  the  high  walls  of  the 
canyon.  A  grotto  where  cool,  refreshing  shadows 
fell,  was  selected,  and  there  our  repast  was  spread. 
What  a  pleasure  it  is  to  see  young  people,  with 
good  appetites,  enjoy  a  meal.  'What  sparkling 
vivacity  mingles  with  their  every  delight !  I  par- 
ticipated in  some  of  the  merry-making  of  the 
company,  but  I  enjoyed  more  than  ony  one  as  an 
observer.  The  pleasure  of  the  repast  was  hardly 
completed  before  Clarence,  as  if  he  were  the  leader 
of  the  party,  asked,  "  Are  we  not  ready  now  for 
the  Doctor's  lecture  ?  " 

Julia,  with  a  delicacy  and  insight  that  was  com- 
mendable, said,  "  Pardon  me,  but  I  am  inclined  to 
think  that  from  what  I  have  known  of  the  Doctor, 


538  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

he  would  hardly  call  it  a  lecture,  but  more  properly 
a  conversational.  Would  not  that  be  a  better 
expression,  Doctor?" 

"  Yes,  Julia,"  I  answered;  "because  I  do  not 
think  it  would  be  well  for  me  to  assume  that  I, 
alone,  could  entertain  or  instruct  such  a  company 
of  young  people.  It  seems  to  me  that  if  we  can  be 
as  free  to  make  remarks  and  ask  questions  and 
express  our  opinions,  as  you  have  been  doing  on 
the  way  down  here,  we  shall  make  the  hours  glide 
pleasantly  and  profitably." 

"  Why  not  ask  the  Doctor,  Emma,  about  the 
question  we  were  discussing  yesterday  ?"  inquired 
Henrietta. 

"  O,  I'm  afraid  it  would  not  be  proper  to  intro- 
duce such  a  question  at  this  time,"  said  Emma. 
"  It  might  not  interest  all  of  the  company.  You 
know  we  were  talking  when  the  boys  were  not 
present." 

"  I  can't  see  as  that  makes  any  difference,"  re- 
sponded Henrietta.  "  It  is  a  question  that  should 
interest  the  boys  as  much  as  it  does  the  girls.  We 
were  in  a  store,  Doctor,  and  while  the  clerk,  a  good 
looking  and  well  dressed  young  man,  was  waiting 
on  us,  a  couple  of  girls  who  were  acquainted  with 
him,  came  in  front  of  the  store  and  whistled  for 
him,  and  we  were  asking  whether  it  was  polite  in 
the  girls  to  try  to  call  him  out." 

"  I  know  those  two  girls,"  said  Henry,  the 
youngest  of  the  company,  "  and  I  tell  you 
they  are  real  nice  girls.  They  are  polite  and 


OK    TKK 

TJNIVERSITT 


CUPID'S    SOUR    GRAPES. 


THE    WHISTLING   GIRL.  539 

kind-hearted,  and  their  parents  belong  to  the  best 
society  in  the  city.  One  of  them  is  a  daughter  of 
a  minister  and  the  other  one's  father  is  a  mer- 
chant, and  no  nicer  people  can  be  found." 

"We  did  not  think  they  were  not  nice  girls,"  re- 
sponded Emma,  "but'we  only  questioned  whether 
it  was  the  best  way  to  do,  and  I'd  be  very  glad, 
for  my  part,  to  know  what  the  Doctor  thinks 
about  it." 

"A  good  many  years  ago  we  were  taught,"  I 
replied,  "that  the  whistling  girl  and  crowing  hen 
would  come  to  some  bad  end,  but  I  think  the 
times  have  changed.  We  have  some  ladies  now 
who  whistle  beautifully,  even  artistically,  and 
there  is  no  reason  why  the  girls  should  not  whistle 
as  much  as  the  boys,  if  they  desire.  But  we  may 
well  call  in  question  the  purpose  for  which  they 
whistle.  Boys  may  rightly  call  each  other  by 
some  peculiar  whistle,  and  there  may  be  no  harm 
in  girls  calling  each  other  by  whistling.  But 
when  girls  stand  in  front  of  a  store  and  whistle  for 
the  boys  to  meet  them,  they  are  guilty  of  a  rude- 
ness, to  say  the  least,  that  should  not  be  en- 
couraged. If  they  wish  to  speak  on  any  business, 
let  them  enter  the  store  and  attend  to  it.  Men 
desire  their  clerks  to  attend  to  business  during 
business  hours,  and  not  give  their  time  to  their 
numerous  friends." 

"  Ah,  Doctor,"  said  Oliver,  "  you  should  have  seen 
one  of  the  city  girls  that  came  to  the  beach  when 
I  was  there.  She  was  a  rusher.  She  took  to  a 


£40  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

companion  of  mine,  and  actually  tied  to  him  ;  and 
she  was  a  nice  girl,  too,  but  then  she  wanted  to  do 
all  the  courtin'  and  everything.  She  would  invite 
him  out  rowing,  and  always  settled  the  expenses 
herself.  When  she  returned  to  the  city,  she  wrote 
him  a  letter.  He  showed  the  letter  to  his  mother 
and  friends,  and  they  all  laughed.  She  said  she  'd 
send  him  a  ring,  because  she  liked  him  better  than 
any  of  her  gentleman  friends.  And  what  do  you 
think  she  did  next  ?  Before  he  answered  her  first 
letter,  her  second  letter,  containing  the  ring,  came 
to  hand  ;  and  her  third  letter  had  in  it,  without  his 
requesting  it,  her  photograph." 

"  Well,  what  do  you  young  gentlemen  think  of 
such  a  girl  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  O,"  said  Henry,  "  we  always  think  them  too 
fresh  ;  and  yet,  when  we  are  with  them,  we  often 
find  much  pleasure  in  their  company.  You  see, 
they  are  nice  girls,  but  their  parents  have  failed  to 
give  them  the  right  kind  of  education." 

"It  seems  to  me,"  said  Julia,  "as  if  they  lacked 
that  delicacy  and  refinement  which  go  to  make 
up  the  true  lady.  I  always  blush  for  them." 

"  All  the  girls  that  come  from  the  city,"  said 
Oliver,  "are  not  like  that  one.  There  was  one,  at 
least,  who  knew  her  business.  The  boys  could  not 
whistle  to  her,  and  yet  she  was  just  as  good  com- 
pany as  any  of  them.  She  could  whistle  and  sing 
and  play  the  guitar  or  piano,  run  a  race  or  row  a 
boat,  and  in  fact  she  was  just  as  good  a  companion 
as  a  boy  ;  but  when  one  of  the  boys  asked  her  for 


* 

BE  POLITE.  54! 

her  photograph,  she  told  him  she  had  not  known 
him  long  enough.  He  opened  his  eyes  with  sur- 
prise, and  told  his  mother  what  a  reply  he  had 
received  ;  and  his  mother  told  him  the  girl  was 
quite  right,  and  she  thought  more  of  her  because 
she  had  given  him  such  an  answer.  Every  fellow 
likes  the  girls  best  who  are  somewhat  particular." 

"  Yes,"  said  Emma,  "  and  the  girls  like  the  boys 
best  who  are  not  too  fresh,  as  Henry  defines  them. 
Some  of  them  think  they  can  whistle  for  the  girls, 
or  wave  a  handkerchief,  and  the  girls  must  reply 
to  their  signals.  I  dislike  this  whole  system  of 
signals.  It  would  not  look  well  in  our  parents, 
and  I  can't  see  how  it  can  be  made  right  when 
carried  on  by  young  people." 

"  I  agree  with  you,  Emma,"  I  replied  ;  "  and  it 
will  be  a  good  thing  for  Americans  when  our  young 
people  are  more  particular  in  many  ways.  A  gen- 
tleman should  always  respect  the  wishes  of  the 
ladies.  He  should  lift  his  hat  when  he  meets  a 
lady  friend  or  acquaintance,  not  after  he  passes 
her.  The  Frenchman  takes  off  his  hat  while  he  is 
conversing  with  ladies,  and  they  in  turn  ask  him 
to  please  cover  his  head,  because  the  blowing 
winds  are  dangerous,  and  this  they  say  even  when 
there  is  no  wind  ;  but  can't  you  see  how  this  fiction 
of  a  blowing  zephyr  gives  them  a  chance  to  be 
very  polite  ?  But  if  the  man  is  so  rude  as  not  to 
remove  his  hat,  he  has  at  once  deprived  them  of  a 
chance  to  be  very  polite,  and  to  employ  the  little 
fiction  of  which  they  are  so  fond.  We  need  more 


542  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

formality  in  our  American  manners,  and  it  must 
come  through  the  younger  generation.  Where 
ladies  and  gentlemen  attend  the  same  university, 
it  has  been  customary  in  the  older  schools  for 
them  to  speak  when  they  meet  on  the  campus  ; 
but  in  the  younger  universities,  as  at  Cornell,  it  is 
not  customary  for  them  even  to  bow  when  they 
pass  each  other  on  the  campus.  This  is  certainly 
very  much  better  than  the  other  extreme,  where 
they  are  conversing  on  the  walks  and  doorsteps, 
and,  worst  of  all,  passing  notes  in  class,  even  during 
recitation.  This  latter,  I  think,  partakes  of  the 
nature  of  the  girls  whistling  in  front  of  the  door 
for  the  boys.  Good  breeding  certainly  should 
draw  the  line  at  the  door  of  the  recitation  room, 
and  let  the  waves  of  the  pencil  and  of  the  whispers 
here  cease  to  annoy. 

"  You  may  not  all  be  aware  of  the  fact  that  the 
queen  of  England  (our  Victoria,  for  we  all  speak 
the  English  language)  is  the  highest  authority  on 
etiquette.  Let  me  narrate  what  is  said  to  have 
taken  place  when  her  daughter  was  about  your 
age.  Her  Majesty  was  present,  in  her  carriage,  at 
a  military  review.  The  princess,  then  about  four- 
teen, seemed  disposed  to  be  a  little  familiar  and 
possibly  coquettish,  in  thoughtless,  girlish  fashion, 
with  the  young  officers  of  the  guard.  The  queen 
tried  to  catch  her  daughter's  eye  ;  but  the  g'ay 
uniforms  were  too  attractive,  and  the  little  princess 
paid  no  attention  to  the  silent  endeavors  of  her 


PICK  UP    YOUR  HANDKERCHIEF. 

mother.  At  last,  in  a  spirit  of  fun,  she  capped  the 
climax  of  her  misdemeanors  by  dropping  her  hand- 
kerchief over  the  side  of  the  carriage,  and  the 
queen  saw  that  it  was  not  an  accident.  Imme- 
diately two  or  three  gentlemen  sprang  from  their 
horses  to  return  it  to  her,  but  the  hand  of  royalty 
waved  them  off. 

"' Thank  you,  but  it  is  not  necessary,'  said  Her 
Majesty.  '  Leave  it  just  where  it  lies  ; '  and  then 
turning  to  her  daughter,  she  said  :  '  Now  I  must 
ask  you  to  get  down  and  pick  up  your  handker- 
chief.' 

"  *  But,  mamma — '  the  little  princess's  lips  quiv- 
ered with  shame,  and  her  face  was  scarlet. 

"  '  Yes,  immediately,'  said  the  queen.  The  royal 
footman  had  opened  the  door,  and  stood  waiting 
by  the  side  of  the  carriage,  and  the  poor,  mortified 
little  princess  was  obliged  to  step  down  and  rescue 
her  own  handkerchief.  What  a  blessed  thing  it 
would  be  for  the  daughters  of  America,  if  each 
had  as  thoughtful  and  judicious  a  mother  as  Queen 
Victoria." 

I  noticed  a  slight  movement  between  a  couple 
of  the  girls  and  one  of  the  boys,  as  if  some  fun 
was  going  on,  when  one  of  the  girls  held  up  a 
cigarette  which  she  had  abstracted  from  a  boy's 
pocket.  The  boy  blushed  at  being  publicly  ex- 
posed, and  the  girls  joined  in  a  moderate  laugh 
of  triumph. 

"  Ah,"  said  I,  "  is  this  the  .next  subject  for  our 

35 


544  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

discussion?"  The  girls  clapped  their  hands  and 
laughingly  said,  "  Yes,  now  give  us  your  opinion 
of  tobacco." 

"  My  opinion  does  not  differ  from  that  of  most 
doctors  ;  in  fact,  we  might  say  that  every  person 
who  has  given  this  subject  any  special  thought, 
knows  that  tobacco  is  poisonous. 

"  Let  me  ^narrate  a  few  facts  which  may  in- 
terest all  of  you.  The  first  one  goes  to  show 
that  tobacco  is  always  present  in  the  blood  of 
a  smoker.  A  Mrs.  Sherman,  of  Iowa,  a  sister- 
in-law  of  Gen.  Sherman,  had  been  an  invalid  for 
more  than  two  years.  The  scientific  physician  had 
done  all  he  could  to  restore  her  to  health.  It  was 
deemed  best,  as  a  last  resort,  by  Dr.  Clark  to  try, 
if  possible,  to  prolong  her  life  by  the  transfusion 
of  blood.  Her  son,  a  robust  young  man,  was  will- 
ing to  lose  some  of  his  blood  to  save  his  mother's 
life.  By  the  ordinary  apparatus,  three  ounces  of 
his  blood  was  transfused  into  Mrs.  Sherman's  sys- 
tem. The  effect  appeared  to  be  decidedly  bene- 
ficial at  first,  for  the  patient  rallied,  and  the  pulse 
grew  stronger,  and  there  was  every  indication  of 
renewed  vitality.  A  little  later  Mrs.  Sherman 
asked  who  was  smoking  in  the  room,  and  said  that 
she  tasted  tobacco.  Her  son  was  an  inveterate 
user  of  tobacco,  and  his  blood,  tainted  with  tobacco, 
having  been  forced  into  her  system,  gave  her 
the  taste  of  the  poison.  The  mother  did  not  re- 
cover her  health.  Another  instance  is  that  of  a 
son  of  whom  the  father  writes, '  I  am  afraid  he  will 


DEATH  BY   THE   CIGARETTE.  545 

never  get  off  his  bed  alive.  What  a  sad  ending 
of  an  ill-spent  life  !  Three  weeks  since  I  was  at 
home.  He  was  apparently  better ;  had  some 
strength,  but  his  mind  was  badly  affected.  I  fear 
the  end  is  drawing  near.  Last  week  he  had  a 
stroke  of  paralysis  ;  he  cannot  turn  over  in  bed  ; 
he  is  losing  his  strength  very  fast  ;  he  cannot 
take  nourishment,  while  he  has  something  grow- 
ing in  his  throat  which  seriously  interferes  with 
his  swallowing  anything.  My  dear  son  has  been 
an  inveterate  smoker  of  cigarettes.  I  have  often 
told  him  that  it  would  kill  him,  if  he  persisted  in 
their  use.  The  physician  said  that  cigarettes  were 
more  harmful  to  my  son  than  would  be  intoxicat- 
ing liquors.  I  do  not  expect  him  ever  to  recover 
his  mind.  I  look  for  an  early  close  of  a  sad  case, 
in  his  death.  He  was  a  very  bright  boy  and 
promising  young  man,  and  would  have  made  his 
mark  but  for  that  one  sad,  fatal  practice  against 
which  the  strongest  protest  and  most  affectionate 
appeals  of  parental  love  could  avail  nothing.  I 
have  long  feared  that  his  smoking  habit  would 
eventually  produce  a  cancer  that  would  cause  his 
death  as  was  the  case  with  Gen.  Grant  and  Emperor 
Frederick  of  Germany  ;  for  I  have  heard  of  a  boy 
who  at  twelve  had  cancer  caused  by  tobacco.' 
This  sad  case  was  closed  by  the  death  of  the 
young  man. 

"The  third  instance  is  that  of  Samuel  Kimball, 
aged  sixteen  years.  He  had  been  in  the  habit  of 
smoking  cigarettes.  When  asked  why  he  did  not 


546  TtfE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

stop  when  he  saw  that  it  was  causing  him  to  ap- 
proach the  grave,  he  replied,  *O,  I  could  not ;  if  I 
could  not  get  them  to  smoke  I  was  almost  wild  ;  I 
could  think  of  nothing  else.'  He  could  not  forget 
what  brought  him  to  his  troubled  condition,  and  he 
kept  asking  all  to  warn  the  boys  against  smoking 
cigarettes.  He  said,  '  Let  any  boy  who  smokes 
cigarettes  look  at  me  now,  and  know  how  I  have 
suffered,  and  he  will  never  put  another  in  his 
mouth.'  He  thought  he  had  not  lived  in.  vain  if 
only  those  boys  who  are  still  alive  would  profit 
by  his  experience  and  death. 

"So  many  instructive  cases  like  these  have  ap- 
peared in  the  newspapers  and  so  many  physi- 
cians testify  against  tobacco,  that  the  law-makers 
of  twenty-nine  States  have  passed  laws  against 
some  forms  of  the  tobacco  vice,  with  the  hope  of 
saving  the  boys.  The  young  men  of  to-day," 
I  continued,  "  are  not  contracting  the  tobacco 
habit  as  in  former  years.  The  men  who  join  the 
college  ball  team  and  the  rowing  team  must  be 
free  from  this  vice.  In  some  of  our  colleges  you 
will  find  it  difficult  to  get  together  a  half  dozen 
young  men  who  use  tobacco.  In  one  college 
of  about  four  hundred  students,  not  one  uses  it. 
There  has  been  a  marked  improvement  in  this  re- 
spect at  Cornell  and  other  of  our  first-class  uni- 
versities. I  am  inclined  to  think  that  one  of  the 
greatest  benefits  arising  from  our  athletic  sports 
is  the  lesson  which  they  teach  in  morals.  A 
man  cannot  be  a  great  success,  for  any  length  of 


THE   CONTRACT.  547 

time,  as  an  athlete,  and  at  the  same  time  indulge 
in  these  small  vices." 

"But,  Doctor,"  asked  Clarence,  "if  the  faculty 
know  these  things  to  be  harmful,  why  do  they  not 
make  a  rule  excluding  all  men  from  the  university 
who  use  tobacco  or  alcoholic  stimulants  ?" 

"Public  opinion,"  I  answered,  "has  not  reached 
so  high  a  standard  as  that  yet.  Let  me  ask  our 
friend  Oliver,  who  had  the  cigarette,  if  we  cannot 
get  him  to  sign  off  here  and  now." 

"Doctor,"  said  Oliver,  "won't  we  come  to  the 
injurious  effects  of  tea  and  coffee  pretty  soon  ? 
I've  told  the  girls  that  I'd  quit  the  cigarette  as 
soon  as  any  of  them  would  agree  to  quit  their 
tea  and  coffee." 

"  Very  good,"  said  I,  "  now  where  is  the  girl  who 
will  quit  her  coffee  to  get  Oliver  to  quit  his 
tobacco  ? " 

"No,  Doctor,"  said  Oliver,  "  I  don't  want  it  put 
on  that  ground  ;  I  want  her  to  quit  because  coffee 
is  injurious  to  her." 

"All  right,  Oliver,"  I  answered,  "that  would  be 
for  the  same  reason,  then,  that  you  quit  tobacco. 
Who  will  join  in  this  well-doing?" 

"I  have  not  thought  this  matter  over,"  said 
Julia,  "yet  I  am  inclined  to  join  in  this  reform 
work  ;  but  I  do  like  a  cup  of  good  coffee  now  and 
then.  Do  you  get  along  all  the  time,  Doctor, 
without  drinking  either  tea  or  coffee  ?" 

"  O,  yes,  without  any  trouble,"  said  I,  "and  feel 
better  for  it  and  can  do  more  work," 


548  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

"Very  well,"  said  Julia,  "I  can  do  it  if  you  can, 
and  I'll  join  with  Oliver."  "  So  will  I,"  said  Emma. 

I  wrote  a    contract,  and    it  was  signed  by    the 
contracting  parties,  and  the  rest  <of  us  signed  as 
witnesses. 

II  Since  we  have  got  this  contract  signed,"  said 
Clarence,    "  can't  you    now  tell  us,  Doctor,    what 
your  idea  was  of  which  you  were  speaking?" 

"Yes,"  I  replied,  "  I  think  we  can  open  this  new 
subject.  You  all  know  that  everybody  has  some 
object  in  life.  To  procure  food  and  clothing  takes 
all  the  time  and  strength  of  the  great  mass  of 
mankind.  They  may  mingle  some  of  the  lower 
pleasures  with  their  toil,  but  of  real  enjoyment 
they  know  but  little.  Many  men  live  to  get  rich. 
Their  only  thought  is  to  accumulate  property  ; 
they  live  for  it,  and  they  perish  striving  for  more. 
Some  men  live  to  acquire  fame,  others  to  become 
wise  ;  a  very  few  to  be  useful  and  to  do  good  to 
their  fellow-men.  Now  it  seems  to  me  that  all 
should  have  in  addition  to  their  regular  business, 
some  other  interest  which  will  work  for  the  good 
of  others  directly,  and  for  the  good  of  the  individual 
indirectly." 

"How  could  that  be  accomplished,  Doctor?" 
inquired  Julia. 

"Very  easily,"  I  replied  ;  "for  suppose  that  you 
were  engaged  in  a  store  as  a  clerk.  Your  wages 
would  furnish  all  your  wants,  and  you  might  spend 
an  hour  or  two  each  week  making  clothing  for  the 
poor.  All  could  see  that  the  clothing  would  bens- 


GENEROSITY. 

fit  the  poor  people  who  received  it  ;  this  would  be 
the  direct  good.  In  addition  to  this,  you  would 
also  be  benefited  ;  because  working  for  the  poor 
would  awaken  your  benevolent  thoughts,  and  your 
kindness  would  grow  in  strength,  and  thus  you 
would  be  benefited  indirectly.  It  is  my  opinion 
that  the  persons  who  do  not  assist  in  some  kind  of 
benevolent  work,  will  not  be  harmoniously  devel- 
oped. They  will  be  too  selfish,  thinking  too  much 
of  their  own  needs  and  desires.  Our  benevolent 
nature  can  only  be  developed  by  using  it.  This 
benevolent  spirit  prompted  Mr.  Cooper  to  give  the 
large  building  in  New  York  City  known  as  Cooper 
Union,  to  the  public,  for  educational  purposes. 
Mr.  Whitelaw  Ried  collected,  clothed,  and  sent 
out  West  for  adoption  and  education  among  farm- 
ers, some  hundreds  of  boys,  as  his  part  in  benevo- 
lent work.  It  is  encouraging  to  know  that  not  three 
in  a  hundred  of  these  boys  have  failed  to  become 
useful  men.  Miss  Clara  Barton  gives  her  time  and 
energy  to  the  Red  Cross  Society,  which  was  origi- 
nally formed  to  care  for  wounded  soldiers  on  battle 
fields  ;  but  she  has  enlarged  its  field  of  beneficence, 
to  furnish  aid  to  those  suffering,  in  this  country, 
from  any  great  calamity,  such  as  yellow  fever,  the 
great  floods,  and  the  great  fires.  One  interesting 
illustration  of  this  benevolent  spirit,  appears  in  the 
case  of  an  old  bachelor  who  was  a  cook  at  a  hotel. 
He  adopted  a  little  girl  nine  years  old,  because  the 
people  who  had  her  did  not  use  her  well.  She 
boarded  with  him  at  the  hotel,  and  attended  school, 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

When  I  knew  him,  the  girl  was  eighteen,  and  was 
taking  music  lessons,  to  become  a  teacher.  He  was 
not  going  to' marry  her,  because  three  years  before 
he  had  married  her  older  sister.  These  few  in- 
stances show,  to  some  extent,  how  man  is  working 
for  his  fellow-man  ;  and  it  would  be  well  if  each 
one  could  be  interested  in  some  benevolent  work 
that  would  aid  in  character-building." 

"  But  what  could  we  engage  in  ? "  asked  Clarence. 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  I  replied,  "  that  it  would  be  a 
praiseworthy  and  noble  work  for  the  young  men 
and  young  women  of  America  to  form  a  society  to 
save  our  boys.  We  are  too  apt  to  get  a  narrow 
view  when  we  speak  of  our  boys.  Let  us  be  wide 
in  our  view,  and  then  our  boys  will  include  all 
American  boys  as  well  as  all  Negro  and  all  Indian 
boys,  and  in  a  few  years  may  include  all  Canadian, 
and,  possibly,  all  Mexican  boys. 

"  We  have  a  population  so  vast  that  no  man  can 
comprehend  what  is  meant  when  we  say  there  are 
more  than  sixty  million  Americans  united  under 
one  government.  This  mass  of  humanity  is  made 
up  of  people  from  all  nations  of  the  earth.  They 
are  continually  coming  to  us  from  all  quarters  of 
the  globe.  They  have  different  ideas,  different 
habits,  and  different  modes  of  living,  from  our  own 
people.  Not  a  few  of  them  have  been  criminals 
and  paupers  ;  for  it  is  well  known  that  some  for- 
eign countries  have  sent  this  class  of  citizens,  at 
public  expense,  into  our  country.  What  is  the 
great  duty  before  us  as  Americans  ?  To  change 


MAKE-   THEM  AMERICANS.  55! 

these  foreigners  into  Americans,  by  changing,  to 
some  extent,  their  mode  of  living,  their  habits, 
and  their  thoughts.  Right  here  on  the  threshold 
of  our  work  of  educating  the  people,  we  find  the 
saloon,  the  greatest  obstacle  in  our  way.  It  is  the 
school  of  vice  and  crime  ;  and  it  becomes  our  duty, 
then,  as  good  citizens,  to  abate  the  saloons  as  a 
nuisance,  in  order  that  we  may  make  for  ourselves 
and  our  children  the  best  government  in  the  world. 
It  is  a  duty  which  we  owe  every  nation,  to  make 
our  government  superior  to  other  forms  of  govern- 
ment, that  it  may  be  an  example  to  all  nations. 
And  our  example  will  be  most  useful,  and  our 
efforts  most  practical,  when  we  put  forth  our  most 
supreme  efforts  in  educating  our  boys.  Can  you 
form  any  adequate  idea  of  the  task,  when  you  try 
to  think  of  fifteen  or  twenty  millions  of  boys  ? 
What  forces  have  we  got  to  counteract  the  in- 
fluence of  the  saloon  ?  We  have  many  temperance 
societies.  One,  the  Good  Templars,  a  secret  so- 
ciety, extends  over  the  whole  country,  and  probably 
accomplishes  all  that  can  be  done  by  a  secret 
society.  The  Woman's  Christian  Temperance 
Union  has  accomplished  much,  but  being  made  up 
wholly  of  women,  cannot  accomplish  all  that  needs 
to  be  done." 

"How  does  it  work  to  have  a  political  party 
based  upon  temperance?"  asked  Clarence. 

"That  has  been  pretty  thoroughly  tried,"  I 
answered,  "  but  has  accomplished  but  little.  I 
heard  one  of  their  public  speakers  address  an 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

ence  in  this  manner  :  '  What  has  the  Democratic 
party  done  for  temperance  ?  Nothing,  profoundly 
nothing !  What  has  the  Republican  party  done 
for  temperance  ?  Nothing,  profoundly  nothing  ! ' 
Such  teaching  as  this  is  misleading,  because  it 
does  not  give  the  two  great  political  parties  credit 
for  what  they  have  done.  If  we  tell  the  whole 
truth,  the  Democratic  party  will  have  credit  for 
passing  many  good  restrictive  laws  against  the 
saloon,  which  are  enforced  in  many  counties  in 
southern  states.  And  the  Republican  party  must 
be  credited  with  passing  and  enforcing  many  re- 
strictive laws  against  the  saloon  in  the  northern 
states. 

"  We  will  find  five  states  which  have  placed 
prohibition  amendments  in  their  constitutions,  and 
the  laws  to  enforce  these  amendments  are  as  well 
enforced  as  other  laws  of  like  character  in  the 
same  states.  The  most  progressive  state  in  the 
Union,  and  probably  the  state  which  has  the  most 
intelligent  citizens,  has  adopted  prohibition  and 
enforced  it.  The  state's  attorney  writes  me  that 
there  is  not  a  saloon  sign  in  the  state,  nor  is  there 
one  barrel  of  bonded  liquor  in  the  state.  Every 
saloon  and  every  distillery  has  been  closed.  This 
is  the  Republican  state  of  Kansas. 

"  As  a  matter  of  fact,  we  still  need  to  educate 
the  public.  Many  assume  that  everybody  knows 
that  alcohol  is  a  poison,  while  as  a  matter  of  fact 
this  is  too  bold  an  assumption.  The  great  mass 
pf  the  people  still  need  to  be  educated  up  to  this 


THE  BOYS   OF   TO-DAY.  553 

high  standard.  There  is  one  fact  which  we  must 
take  into  most  serious  consideration,  which  is, 
that  the  law-makers  of  the  future  are  the  boys  of 
to-day,  and  the  votes  which  will  decide  who  shall 
make  the  laws  will  be  deposited,  in  the  near  future, 
by  the  boys  of  to-day.  It  becomes  very  impor- 
tant, then,  that  the  boys  should  be  educated  on 
this  as  well  as  other  practical  subjects.  We  must 
take  into  consideration  what  instruction  these 
boys  are  now  receiving.  If  we  look  into  our  com- 
mon schools,  we  will  find  about  an  equal  number 
of  boys  and  girls  in  the  lowest  grades,  but  when 
the  children  have  reached  the  age  often  or  twelve 
years,  that  is,  when  we  go  into  the  grammar 
schools,  we  will  find  that  the  girls  attending  school 
are  more  numerous  than  the  boys.  In  the  high 
school  we  will  find  the  girls  more  numerous  than 
the  boys.  The  teachers  observe  this  fact,  and  re- 
gret it,  and  yet  do  not  seem  to  have  found  out 
why  it  is.  Let  me  ask  if  you  have  any  preference 
as  to  teachers  yourselves.  Would  you  prefer  to 
be  in  a  school  where  there  is  a  man  at  the  head  of 
the  school,  or  in  one  where  women  only  shall  be 
teachers  ? " 

"  For  my  part,"  said  Clarence,  "  I  know  that  I 
would  very  much  prefer  to  be  in  a  school  with  a 
man  to  give  instruction." 

"  So  would  I,"  said  Oliver. 

"  I  think,"  said  Julia,  "  that  I  would  prefer  to 
attend  a  school  where  a  man  was  the  principal,  if 
there  were  also  lady  teachers."  The  other  mem- 


554  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

bers  of  the  company  coincided  with  these  views. 

"It  is  quite  evident,"  I  continued,  "  that  boys 
who  have  arrived  at  twelve  or  fourteen  years  of 
age  have  a  mysterious  and  unexplainable  desire  to 
be  with  men,  to  see  what  men  do  and  how  they  do 
it.  We  know  they  have  a  desire  to  be  manly. 
They  know  unconsciously  that  they  are  to  be  men 
and  not  women,  and  very  naturally  they  look  for 
examples  in  men.  They  are  unable  to  get  the 
same  interest  in  women  teachers,  no  matter  how 
superior  the  women  teachers  may  be.  I  have 
mentioned  this  physiological  fact  to  a  number  of 
principals  of  schools,  and  they  agree  with  me  that 
this  is  probably  one  of  the  chief  causes  why  so  many 
boys  quit  school  at  the  ages  I  have  mentioned. 

"  Our  greatest  need  is  to  educate  the  poor,  the 
indifferent,  and  the  careless  ;  and  whoever  gets 
these  to  attend  school,  to  learn  trades,  and  become 
good  citizens,  is  a  public  benefactor.  In  some 
grammar  schools  where  they  have  men  for  prin- 
cipals continually,  the  boys  more  nearly  equal  the 
number  of  girls  than  in  other  schools.  There  is 
something  in  the  management  of  men,  and  the 
personal  influence  which  they  unconsciously  exert, 
which  is  attractive  to  the  young  boys.  Men  can 
stimulate  them  to  exertion  where  women  fail.  It 
would  be  wise  management  for  our  public  schools 
to  engage  young  men  graduates  from  our  colleges 
and  universities  to  take  charge  of  our  grammar 
schools,  aided  by  women  teachers  ;  and  it  would 
be  well  if  a  greater  number  of  the  teachers  in  our 


THE    VOTERS   OF   TO-MORROW. 

high  schools  were  young"  men  from  the  universities. 
The  great  success  of  the  Young  Men's  Christian 
Association  is  due,  no  doubt,  very  largely  to  the 
fact  that  it  is  managed  by  young  men  as  local 
secretaries. 

"  This  idea  of  employing  young  men  to  teach 
the  boys  is  practical,  not  only  in  our  schools,  but 
in  our  temperance  work  as  well.  We  need  a  new 
temperance  society  which  should  be  conducted 
largely  by  young  men  and  women,  and  a  special 
effort  should  be  made  to  induce  the  boys  to  join. 
I  think  it  would  be  well  for  every  man  who  joins 
this  society,  to  pay  the  annual  dues  for  some  lad 
whom  he  could  induce  to  join  the  society.  He 
should,  to  a  certain  extent,  act  as  his  guardian  on 
this  subject,  and  take  an  interest  in  his  develop- 
ment. Of  course  such  a  society  should  be  non- 
political  and  non-sectarian.  The  success  of  the 
temperance  work  is  due  very  largely  to  the  influ- 
ence of  the  ministers  of  the  gospel ;  and  our  society 
should  be  as  broad  in  its  principles,  and  as  free 
from  party,  as  the  church  itself,  because  we  cannot 
hope  to  succeed  unless  we  can  engage  the  influ- 
ence of  the  preachers  in  our  churches.  In  order 
to  facilitate  our  organization,  it  would  be  well  to 
make  every  minister  a  vice-president  of  the  gen- 
eral association.  He  could  then  give  advice  to  the 
young  people,  and  when  they  had  public  meetings, 
he  could  introduce  the  speaker." 

"Would  you  have  the  young  people  form  so- 
cieties by  themselves?"  asked  Clarence. 


556  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

"  Yes,"  I  answered,  "as  much  as  possible,  so 
they  would  take  an  interest  in  the  work  ;  and  let 
the  older  heads  furnish  all  the  instruction  and 
entertainment  they  can,  and  above  all  things  fur- 
nish the  necessary  cash  to  keep  the  boys  at  work. 
It  would  be  well  to  name  the  society  the  'Collegi- 
ate Educational  Temperance  Union,'  and  have  it 
organized  in  our  colleges  first,  and  extend  from 
these  to  all  schools  and  churches. 

"  The  object  of  this  association  should  be  to 
obtain  the  advantages  of  union  of  action  in  our 
educational  institutions,  in  teaching  the  evils  of 
intemperance  ;  to  secure  scientific  and  able  lectur- 
ers on  temperance;  to  interest  doctors,  lawyers, 
and  men  of  science  and  business,  in  temperance 
work  ;  to  induce  all  persons  to  abstain  from  intoxi- 
cant^s,  and  employers  to  engage  sober  workmen  ; 
to  influence  the  press  in  temperance  work  ;  and 
to  obtain  such  legislation  as  will  protect  society 
against  the  saloon. 

"Suppose,  Clarence,  that  a  disinterested  person 
of  ability,  say  a  citizen  of  the  moon,  who  knew  our 
American  institutions  thoroughly,  was  asked  his 
opinion  of  us.  What  do  you  think  he  would  be 
forced  to  say  ?  " 

"  I  give  it  up,"  said  Clarence  ;  "but  tell  us  what 
you  think  he  would  say." 

"  Something  like  this,"  I  replied  :  "  *  You  are  a 
strange  and  adverse  people.  Columbus,  one  of 
the  greatest  of  men,  taught  men  how  to  cross  the 
ocean,  and  discovered  a  new  world.  Did  you 


COLUMBIA. 

name  the  new  world  Columbia,  after  the  great 
man  ?  Oh,  no  !  but  after  a  little  man,  America. 
Your  ancestors  gathered  the  best  ideas  of  liberty 
from  all  parts  of  the  world,  and  forged  therefrom 
that  masterly  instrument,  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence ;  and  during  seven  years  they  waded 
through  blood  and  carnage  to  establish  it,  and  yet 
left  in  their  midst' the  greatest  curse  of  their  age, 
African  slavery.  They  passed  through  many  dan- 
gers during  the  succeeding  ten  years,  and  from 
their  experience  and  wisdom  emanated  the  great- 
est product  of  the  human  brain  ever  struck  off  at 
one  time  by  the  hand  of  man,  the  Constitution  of 
the  United  States  ;  and  yet  within  that  Constitu- 
tion, to  curse  their  country  and  their  children's 
children,  they  left  that  great  abomination,  African 
slavery.  To  purify  the  Constitution  of  this  foul 
remnant  of  barbarism,  the  American  people  en- 
gaged in  a  terribly  destructive  war,  and  after  four 
years  of  blood  and  carnage,  their  efforts  were 
crowned  with  success,  and  four  millions  of  black 
slaves  were  made  freemen,  and  given  a  freeman's 
ballot  ;  but  his  ballot  remains  uncounted.  The 
American  people  have  so  often  fastened  upon  the 
great  the  little,  and  upon  the  generous  the  mean, 
that  they  are  looked  upon  with  astonishment. 

"'While  boasting  that  they  possessed  the  high- 
est moral  ideas,  they  made  treaties  for  the  best 
lands  of  a  continent  with  the  child-like  natives 
who  were  almost  willing  to  give  away  their  pos- 
sessions, and  yet  made  it  a  practice  to  cheat  them 


5  $  8  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

in  nearly  all  transactions.  These  treaties  made 
with  the  native  tribes  as  if  they  were  independent 
nations,  they  refused  to  fulfill,  and  neglected  to 
pay  their  just  debts  until  wars  closed  the  temple 
of  peace,  and  millions  of  dollars  were  spent  in  war, 
where  hundreds  promptly  paid  would  have  secured 
peace.  Instead  of  inducing  the  native  to  adopt  a 
higher  civilization,  they  adopted  his  filthy  tobacco 
habit,  and  taught  him  to  get  drunk. 

"  '  To  induce  the  government  to  deal  justly  with 
the  Indians,  a  handful  of  influential  citizens  met 
and  organized  for  the  purpose  of  bringing  to  the 
attention  of  the  government  the  rights  of  the  red 
man.  They  were  successful,  and  already  farms 
and  the  needed  tools  for  farming,  are  being  fur- 
nished to  the  Indians,  and  schools  established  for 
educating  their  children,  and  there  is  yet  hope  for 
the  red  man. 

'"The  strangest  and  most  marvelous  of  all  in- 
consistencies presents  itself.  The  government  al- 
lows the  lowest,  meanest  criminals  from  all  Europe 
to  settle  in  this  country  and  sell  alcoholic  poison  to 
the  children  of  the  nation.  Yes,  more,  the  govern- 
ment even  appoints  officers  to  inspect  the  diseased 
cattle,  and  spends  millions  of  dollars  to  protect 
them  from  pleuro-pneumonia  ;  and  we  may  truth- 
fully say  that  these  millions  of  dollars,  and  many 
more,  the  government  collects  from  licenses  granted 
to  these  same  low  criminals  who  are  poisoning  the 
children  of  the  nation.  The  physicians  are  en- 
couraged to  lead  the  cattle  health-ward  —  that  is, 


SAVE   THE   CHILDREN'.  559 

heavenward ;  and  the  criminal  saloon-men  are 
licensed — made  respectable  —  to  lead  the  children 
hellward.  The  cattle  to  be  saved  —  the  children 
to  be  damned  !  That  is  what  I  think  he  would 
say.' 

"O  Doctor,"  stammered  Clarence,  "it  makes  my 
blood  run  almost  cold  in  my  veins  to  hear  you 
speak  so  severely." 

"  Ah  1  my  dear  Clarence,"  I  responded,  most  em- 
phatically, "  I  would  that  it  was  within  my  power 
not  only  to  make  your  blood  run  cold,  but  to  make 
the  blood  in  the  veins  of  every  young  man  in 
America,  run  cold  until  this  wrong  is  righted. 
Think  what  a  great  disgrace  it  is  to  our  country  in 
this  enlightened  age,  to  have  thousands  upon 
thousands  of  saloons  corrupting  our  boys  and 
young  men,  and  sowing  the  seeds  of  all  kinds  of 
vice  and  crime.  Think  of  this  daily  ;  that  if  the 
saloon-men  should  poison  as  many  horses  as  they 
poison  children  monthly,  there  would  be  such  a 
storm  of  popular  indignation  and  wrath  that  the 
saloons  would  be  utterly  destroyed  in  less  than 
thirty  days  ;  if  the  saloons  should  kill  as  many 
hogs  in  America,  in  a  year,  as  they  do  men,  there 
would  be  a  revolution  that  would  exterminate  the 
criminal  saloonists  in  a  week's  time.  Are  the 
horses  worth  more  than  our  youths,  and  do  we  love 
swine  more  than  our  children  ? 

"These  miscreants  have  disgraced  our  govern- 
ment and  blackened  our  beautiful  national  ensign. 
Only  five  white  stars  representing  the  states 

36 


550  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

where  the  saloon  is  outlawed,  remain  in  the  field 
of  blue  ;  the  others  are  blackened  by  the  saloon 
influence,  and  a  broad  black  stripe  represents  our 
national  disgrace.  We  must  teach  our  youths  to 
hate  the  saloon  as  Eve  did  the  serpent,  and  crush 
and  destroy  it.  Let  them  take  for  their  motto, 
'Destroy  the  saloons,  and  save  our  boys  ! ' 

"  We  must  teach  our  boys  and  girls  patriotism, 
and  this  means  much,  very  much.  Our  ancestors, 
our  great-grandfathers,  led  by  Washington,  Sam 
Adams,  Patrick  Henry,  Jefferson,  Thomas  Paine, 
Hamilton,  Franklin,  John  Adams,  Madison,  and 
Robert  Morris,  gave  us  the  Declaration  of  In- 
dependence, and  constitutional  government.  Our 
fathers,  the  loyal  men  of  the  North,  led  by  Lin- 
coln, Seward,  Chase,  Stanton,  Sumner,  Grant, 
Sherman,  and  Sheridan,  preserved  our  government 
and  destroyed  slavery,  and  it  is  left  for  the  chil- 
dren of  the  nation  to  overcome  the  evil  influences 
that  follow  a  great  war,  and  purify  our  politics  of 
corruption,  vice,  and  crime,  and  give  the  govern- 
ment a  purity  it  greatly  needs.  The  fountain 
must  be  pure,  or  the  stream  is  turbid.  The  in- 
dividuals must  be  pure  to  get  a  pure  government. 
Let  honest  and  good  men  have  charge  of  the 
public  affairs.  Every  man  who  is  corrupting  the 
young  or  gaining  personal  or  party  advantages  by 
corrupt  means,  is  a  traitor  to  his  country  and  his 
God.  Every  man  who  is  striving  for  purity  of 
character  in  himself,  to  preserve  the  family  and 
purify  his  government,  is  a  patriot." 


JOHN  G.    WHITTIER. 

"Our  thought  of  thee  is  glad  with  hope, 

Dear  eountry  of  our  love  and  prayers  ; 
Thy  way  is  down  no  fatal  slope, 
But  up  to  freer  sun  and  airs. 

"  The  fathers  sleep,  but  men  remain 

As  true  and  wise  and  brave  as  they  ; 
Why  count  the  loss  without  the  gain  ? 
The  best  is  that  we  have  to-day. 

"No  lack  was  in  thy  primal  stock, 

No  weakling  founders  builded  here  ; 
Thine  were  the  men  of  Plymouth  Rock, 
The  Puritan  and  Cavalier  ; 

"And  time  shall  be  the  power  of  all 
To  do  the  work  that  duty  bids  ; 
And  make  the  people's  council  hall 
As  lasting  as  the  pyramids. 

"Thy  lesson  all  the  world  shall  learn, 

The  nations  at  thy  feet  shall  sit ; 
Earth's  furthest  mountain  tops  shall  burn 
With  watchfires  from  thine  own  uplit. 

"  Great,  without  seeking  to  be  great 

By  fraud  or  conquest  —  rich  in  gold, 
But  richer  in  the  large  estate 

Of  virtue  which  thy  children  hold. 

"  With  peace  that  comes  of  purity, 

And  strength  to  simple  justice  due, 
So  owns  our  loyal  dream  of  thee. 
God  of  our  fathers  !  make  it  true. 

"  Oh,  land  of  lands  !  to  thee  we  give 

Our  love,  our  trust,  our  service  free  ; 
For  thee  thy  sons  shall  nobly  live, 
And  at  thy  need  shall  die  for  thee." 


CHAPTER     XI. 

THE    UNIVERSITY. 

DURING  the  winter,  I  had  a  call  from  Clarence. 
He  had  just  commenced  geometry,  and  found  it 
very  difficult  to  get  hold  of  the  argument  so  that 
he  could  retain  it.  I  therefore  made  an  appoint- 
ment with  him  for  the  next  day,  when  we  would 
spend  an  hour  together.  I  had  an  old  black- 
board, and  with  this  before  him,  he  read  a  few 
sentences,  and  then  drew  the  figures  as  described  ; 
and  as  soon  as  he  reached  the  argument,  I  had  him 
read  it  carefully,  and  then  look  at  his  own  figure, 
and  see  if  he  understood  the  argument  independent 
of  the  letters  or  figures  used.  He  soon  got  pos- 
session of  the  idea  that  the  argument  was  the 
lesson,  and  that  it  was  easily  remembered  if 
thoroughly  understood.  In  an  hour's  time  he  had 
mastered  this  very  simple  yet  efficient  method  of 
learning  geometry,  and  thereafter  he  was  able  to 
learn  geometry  thoroughly  as  soon  as  he  could 
read  the  lesson  over  once.  Learning  that  Julia 
had  some  difficulty  in  the  same  study,  I  sent  word 
to  her,  and  taught  her,  as  well  as  Henrietta,  who 
came  with  her,  what  they  needed  to  know.  With 
this  exception,  I  saw  little  of  the  young  folks 
during  the  winter,  except  when  we  passed  on  the 
(502) 


WATCHING    THEIR  PROGRESS.  563 

street  or  met  at  the  Sabbath-school.  I  knew, 
however,  that  they  were  busy  at  school  and  doing 
good  work  ;  for  this  was  characteristic  of  them. 
It  seems  to  me  as  if  the  time  was  almost  stationary 
for  awhile,  and  yet  I  was  astonished  at  the  de- 
velopment and  progress  of  the  young  folks  who 
made  up  our  picnic  party.  They  grew  taller,  and 
changed  in  appearance  so  that  some  of  them  were 
almost  strangers  to  me,  and  once  or  twice  I  failed 
to  recognize  one  of  them.  They  were  going  at 
too  rapid  a  pace  for  me.  I  could  not  keep  up  with 
them,  although  my  interest  in  them  never  grew 
less. 

It  was  my  pleasure  to  watch  their  progress. 
Oliver  had  shown  great  fondness  for  using  tools. 
Having  passed  his  examinations  in  grammar  and 
arithmetic,  he  passed  into  the  high  school,  where 
he  made  a  success  in  algebra  and  geometry  and 
other  studies.  All  the  time  he  was  looking  for  a 
position  in  a  shop,  and  at  length  he  succeeded  in 
obtaining  work  in  a  machine-shop,  where  he 
passed  rapidly,  on  account  of  his  skill  and  close 
application  to  business,  from  one  machine  to  an- 
other. His  ability  to  design  and  draw  accurately 
gave  him  one  promotion  after  another,  until  he 
stood  almost  at  the  head  of  the  shop. 

Clarence  made  rapid  progress  in  his  books,  and 
was  considered  one  of  the  best  scholars  in  the 
school.  He  was  always  manly  and  prompt  in 
every  task  assigned  him.  I  was  sitting  in  my 
study,  one  day,  not  busily  engaged,  when  he 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

entered.  His  round,  boyish  face  had  changed. 
It  was  more  manly,  if  not  more  beautiful.  His 
bright  eyes,  beautiful  white  teeth,  and  winning 
smile,  combined  with  his  refined  and  cordial  man- 
ners, made  him  very  attractive.  As  I  rose  to  meet 
him,  "  O,  don't  be  disturbed,  Doctor,"  said  he, 
bowing,  "by  my  presence.  Please  keep  your  seat. 
I  have  only  come  in  to  have  a  little  chat  with  the 
hope  of  getting  some  good  advice." 

"  Good  advice  ! "  I  exclaimed,  shaking  him  cor- 
dially by  the  hand.  "  Why  should  you  need  ad- 
vice ?  Your  appearance  indicates  that  you  are 
following  good  advice,  and  succeeding  most  ad- 
mirably." 

"Thank  you,"  said  he;  "but  I  well  remember 
the  valuable  suggestions  you  made  when  I  entered 
the  high  school,  and  I  thought  it  might  be  well  for 
me  to  call  and  see  you  before  I  entered  the  uni- 
versity." 

"Indeed!  then  you  intend,"  said  I,  "to  try  uni- 
versity life,  lam  glad  to  hear  that;  for  there  is 
nothing  better  for  a  young  man  who  appreciates 
books  and  culture,  or  who  wishes  to  reach  a  scien- 
tific standing  in  any  calling  in  life.  But  what  were 
the  good  suggestions  that  I  gave  you  ?" 

"  You  urged  me,"  he  replied,  "  to  work  earnestly 
and  faithfully  in  mathematics,  and  master,  if  pos- 
sible, every  problem  and  every  subject  under- 
taken." 

"  Well,  what  did  that  amount  to  ? "  I  inquired. 
"  Did  you  not  forget  it  in  a  week  ? " 


GET  A    GOOD  FOUNDATION".         . 

"  No,  sir ;  I  followed  your  prescription  faith- 
fully," he  replied.  "  And  I  found  it  a  good  one  ; 
for  I  succeeded  so  well  that  at  the  final  examina- 
tion I  stood  the  highest  in  the  class,  and  in  the 
contest  for  the  Cornell  scholarship  I  have  just  been 
declared  successful.  You  can  probably  now  ad- 
vise me  how  to  succeed  equally  well  at  the  univer- 
sity. I  have  been  thinking  of  engineering,  and 
wish  to  know  if  you  think  this  a  good  field  for  me." 

"  Yes,  if  you  are  good  in  mathematics  and  have 
been  thorough  in  your  work,"  I  replied,  "you  will 
find  no  field  more  inviting,  more  interesting,  or 
more  prompt  in  furnishing  you  a  position  after 
graduation.  Either  civil  or  mechanical  engineer- 
ing is  good,  but  I  think  electrical  engineering  is, 
at  present,  the  best  field.  For  years  to  come  there 
will  be  great  demand  for  the  most  skillful  workmen 
and  engineers  in  electricity.  There  is  an  opening 
here  for  discovery  and  invention.  Get  to  the  very 
foundation  of  everything  in  your  own  department, 
so  that  when  you  come  to  put  your  science  to 
practice,  you  will  win,  if  possible,  a  place  as  an  ex- 
pert. The  fact  is,  very  much  of  the  work  that  has 
been  done  must  soon  be  done  over  again.  Proba- 
bly six  tenths  of  the  bridges  of  the  country  must 
be  rebuilt,  because  they  were  not  made  according 
to  the  laws  which  are  now  known  to  govern  their 
construction.  The  same  is  true  in  regard  to  the 
improvement  in  electricity." 

"Would  you  advise  me,"  he  asked,  "  to  join  any 
of  the  college  secret  societies  ?" 


THE   H°LY  OF  HOLIES.. 

"  That  is  rather  a  difficult  question  for  me  to 
answer,"  I  replied.  "  You  must  determine  the 
question  for  yourself,  when  you  get  there.  Keep 
with  the  young  men  of  the  best  character,  and 
you  will  be  safe.  The  best  men  can  be  found 
both  in  and  out  of  the  societies.  Keep  in  touch 
with  the  Christian  element  in  some  form  or  other. 
This  will  benefit  you.  The  athletic  training  in 
the  university  is  helpful  to  all  young  men  and 
women,  but  it  is  the  steady  work  and  not  the  con- 
tests, which  does  the  greatest  good  and  the  least 
harm.  You  will  find  the  military  drill  the  most 
useful  part  of  your  athletics.  The  early  morn- 
ing hours  are  the  best  for  difficult  examples. 
Do  all  things  with  moderation.  Keep  your  feet 
warm  and  your  head  cool,  and  sleep  seven  or 
eight  hours  every  night.  Remember  that  you 
are  starting  on  a  forty  years'  race,  and  you  must 
not  try  to  run  too  fast  at  the  start,  during  the 
first  four  years.  Try  to  reserve  strength  for 
emergencies  later  in  life.  It  is  generally  the  man 
who  has  great  strength  at  forty  or  sixty,  who 
makes  his  mark  in  the  world." 

"I  am  very  much  obliged,"  said  Clarence,  "  for 
your  good  advice  and  your  confidence  in  my  meet- 
ing with  success.  I  hope  you  will  retain  some 
charity  for  me  in  case  I  fall  short." 

"We  will  watch  you,"  I  answered,  "with  un- 
bounded interest.  Remember  that  the  piercing 
eyes  of  the  greatest  century,  since  the  creation, 
are  looking  down  upon  you  hopefully,  and  your 


THE   GREATEST  CENTURY.  567 

success  will  brighten  the  future.  Will  you  excuse 
me  if  I  call  your  attention  to  a  subject  which  the 
records  show  is  generally  overlooked  by  those 
who  are  giving  advice  to  the  young  men  and 
women  who  attend  our  colleges  and  universities  ? 
Possibly  some  may  feel  that  it  is  too  personal  a 
matter  for  them  to  mention  without  being  espe- 
cially asked  to  give  their  opinion,  and  the  young 
people  think  they  may  ask  advice  on  any  and  all 
other  subjects,  but  not  on  this  subject. 

"Take  almost  any  one  of  our  great  colleges  or 
universities,  and  you  will  find  that  the  children  of 
the  members  of  the  faculty  do  not  equal  in  numbers 
the  members  of  the  faculty  and  their  wives.  This 
simply  means  that  our  educated  men  do  not 
marry,  or  marriages  are  so  late  in  life  that  they 
are  not  blessed  with  families.  What  does  such  a 
state  of  things  signify  to  the  nation  ?  It  means 
that  the  best  element  in  society  is  not  doing  for 
the  state  as  much  as  it  should  to  maintain  its 
integrity.  Not  that  I  would  say  every  man  should 
marry,  but  I  do  think  that  the  young  men  and 
young  women  should  attend  college  together,  and 
they  should  not  take  such  a  deep  interest  in  their 
studies  that  other  and  quite  as  important  subjects 
are  neglected.  Three  fourths  of  the  young  women 
who  graduate  at  our  institutions  of  higher  educa- 
tion remain  unmarried  at  the  age  when  most 
women  are  married.  During  the  years  when  a 
young  man  is  attending  college,  he  needs  to 
cultivate  those  graces  which  keep  him  from  being 


5 68  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

an  old  bachelor  and  make  him  attractive  to  the 
ladies ;  for  these  qualities  are  useful  not  only 
among  the  ladies,  but  among  men  as  well.  It  is  a 
mistake  for  young  men  to  think  that  a  wife  takes 
from  the  cash  account  more  than  she  brings  to  it 
by  earning  and  economy.  She  may  cultivate  her 
love  for  the  beautiful  by  using  flowers  and  ribbons, 
but  these  will  not  cost  half  so  much  as  a  man 
spends  for  tobacco.  For  thrift,  economy,  and 
helpfulness  our  American  girls  must  be  highly 
commended.  Let  your  sympathy  and  influence 
protect  and  shield  the  young  women  who  are 
seeking  higher  education." 

Sometime  after  the  opening  of  the  university,  I 
happened  to  be  down  near  the  boat-houses,  and 
was  a  little  surprised  and  much  pleased  to  see 
Clarence  in  the  decollete  uniform  of  the  boat  club. 
"  Ah,  my  boy  !  "  said  I,  "  what  does  this  mean  ? " 
"  Simply,  sir,"  he  responded,  "that  I  have  be- 
come a  rowing  machine.  You  see  I  remained  at 
home  last  summer  to  keep  our  boys  at  work  row- 
ing, so  as  to  down  the  sophomores  in  our  contest, 
and  after  managing  the  boys  so  long  and  having 
beaten  the  sophomores,  they  want  me  to  stay  with 
them  ;  and  it  looks  to  our  trainer  now  as  if  we 
would  be  the  fastest  team  Cornell  has  ever  had." 

Sometimes  people  are  astonished  when  they  see 
their  own  teaching  put  into  practice  if  it  comes  in 
a  different  way  from  what  they  expected.  Henry 
was  often  out  rowing,  and  coming  near  the  rocks 


'''  \\  ah  •^!Ty^^ 


THE  OLD   BACHELOR. 


fc-l 


1.  I  saw  him  once  be  -  fore, 
2  They  say  that  in  his  prime, 
8.  But  now  he  walks  the  streets, 

4.  The   mos    sy     mar  -  ble    rests 

5.  My    grandmamma     has     said, 

6.  But   now  his  nose     is      thin, 

7.  I       know    it      is        a         sin 

8.  And  if    I  should  live    to         be 


As  he  passed  by  my  door ; 
Ere  the  pruning  knife  of  time 
And  looks  at  all  he  meets 
On  the  lips  that  he  has  pressed 
Poor  old  lady  she  is  dead 
And  it  rests  upon  his  chin 
For  me  to  sit  and  grin 
The  last  leaf  upon  the  tree 


*   ' 

s£ 


-m—-m 


-w>-^-mt 


-3=J 


2=fc 


=1= 


And  a   •  gain 

Cut  him  down, 

Sad  and  wan, 

In  their  bloom ; 

Long  a  -    go, 

Like  a     staff; 

At  him    here; 

In  the  spring, 


And  a  -  gain 
Cut  him  down, 
Sad  and  wan, 
In  their  bloom; 
Long  a  -  go, 
Like  a  staff; 
At  him  here; 
In  the  spring, 


tJ  * 


-H— H— m 


rftfc 


THE  OLD  BACHELOR.  — CONCLUDED. 

*a=  -ft— *->=! — -i^JrJ 


PM* 


-*=£: 


The       pavement  stones  re  -  sound 

Not  a       bet  -  ter    man  was  found 

He       shakes  his    fee  -  ble  head, 

And  the  names  he  loved  to  hear 

That  he  had     a     Ro  -  man  nose, 

And  a    crook  is      in      his  back, 

But  the    old  three-cornered  hat 

Let  them  laugh  as     I     do  now, 


As  he  tot  -  ters  o'er  the 
By  the  cri  -  er  on  his 
That  it  seems  as  if  he 
Have  been  carved  for  many  a 
And  his  cheek  was  like  a 
And  a  mel-an-chol  -  y 
And  the  breeches  and  all 
At  the  old  for-sak-en 


ground      With  his     cane, 


round 

said, 

year 

rose 

crack 

that, 

bough 


Through  the  town,   - 
They  are    gone, 
On     the    tomb,   - 
In      the    snow, 
In       his  laugh,   - 
Are     so  queer! 
Where  I    cling,  - 


With  his     cane. 

Through  the  town. 

They  are    gone. 

-  On      the  tomb. 
In       the   snow. 

-  In       his  laugh. 
Are    so   queer! 

-  Where  I    cling. 


FINDS  A  BABY. 

on  the  east  side  of  the  lake,  he  heard  a  little  child 
crying.  It  did  not  take  him  long  to  find  it,  a  nice, 
bright  little  baby  about  nine  months  old,  carefully 
wrapped  in  good  clothing.  His  first  thought  was 
to  find  its  home  and  restore  it  to  its  mother.  He 
carried  it  to  the  nearest  farm  house.  The  good 
farmer's  wife  was  astonished  to  see  a  boy  bringing 
a  baby  to  her  house,  and  he  was  equally  astonished 
to  learn  that  she  was  not  its  mother.  It  then 
dawned  upon  him  that  he  had  really  found  a  baby. 

"If  it  is  not  your  baby,"  said  he,  "then  it  is 
mine,  because  I  found  it." 

"Yes,"  said  the  farmer's  wife,  "but  a  boy  can't 
take  care  of  a  baby." 

"  You  can't  tell  what  a  boy  can  do,"  he  replied, 
"until  you  have  tried  him.  If  you  will  help  me  a 
little,  I  can  take  care  of  it,  if  I  do  n't  find  its  mother." 

It  was  agreed  that  if  the  mother  was  not  found, 
the  farmer's  wife  should  help  Henry  take  care  of 
the  little  girl  baby,  and  he  was  to  pay  her  one 
dollar  a  week  for  her  services.  The  most  care- 
ful search  discovered  no  mother  or  father  for 
the  baby,  and  the  agreement  between  Henry 
and  the  farmer's  wife  was  faithfully  performed. 

I  was  quite  as  much  astonished  at  the  idea  of 
Henry's  adopting  a  little  girl  baby  as  I  was 
that  he  should  find  a  baby,  and  I  told  him  so. 

"  I  can  't  see,"  said  he,  "why  a  boy  may  not  get 
a  farmer's  wife  to  help  him  adopt  a  baby,  if  Mr. 
Reid  can  get  the  farmers  of  the  West  to  help 
him  adopt  a  hundred  boys," 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

Everybody,  although  surprised  at  the  novelty 
of  the  adoption,  quite  approved  of  Henry's 
action  in  the  matter.  It  gave  our  little  com- 
pany a  reason  for  visiting  the  farmer's  home 
rather  often,  and  the  farmer's  wife  found  the 
child  a  source  of  revenue,  for  all  felt  they  had  a 
right  to  donate  something  to  help  the  baby  or  its 
young,  plucky  adoptive  father. 


A  year  later  I  had  a  talk  with  Julia  upon  many 
subjects,  but  the  one  of  chief  interest  was  in  re- 
gard to  schools.  In  answer  to  one  of  my  questions, 
she  expressed  a  desire  to  go  to  school  at  Smith  or 
Vassar,  after  graduating  from  the  high  school. 

"But  why  seek  pastures  new,"  I  asked,  "when 
at  your  own  door  you  have  one  of  the  best  univer- 
sities in  the  country?" 

"O,  I  think,"  she  replied,  "that  it  would  be  so 
very  nice  to  go  from  home  to  attend  college.  Do 
you  not  think  them  good  schools  ?" 

"  Certainly,  they  are  excellent  schools,"  I  re- 
plied ;  "  but  I  can  see  no  advantage  they  enjoy 
superior  to  Cornell  University.  The  advantage 
of  going  from  home  cannot  be  very  great." 

"  I  do  not  know  as  it  is,"  she  replied,  "  but  I 
thought  I  'd  prefer  to  attend  a  school  especially 
arranged  for  young  ladies.  Don't  you  think  this 
is  an  advantage  ? " 

"  I  am  unable,"  I  answered,  "to  see  how  such  an 
arrangement  can  benefit  you,  Will  you  learn 
more  rapidly  ? " 


A  BETTER  EDUCATION.  tj^j 

"No,"  she  replied.  "But  I  would  be  under  the 
guidance  and  instruction  of  educated  and  refined 
women,  and  this,  I  think,  would  be  an  advantage." 

"To  many  minds,"  said  I,  "  this  would  be  con- 
sidered a  privilege,  and,  no  doubt,  for  a  certain 
class  of  young  women  it  would  be  an  advantage." 

"To  what  class,  Doctor,"  she  asked,  "do  you 
refer,  and  how  do  you  explain  your  views  ?  " 

"Simply  by  a  common  sense  view,"  I  replied. 
"  Here  is  a  college  for  teaching  young  women. 
The  teachers  are  generally  unmarried  women  ; 
and  they  will  naturally  have  a  tendency  to  make 
the  girls  more  feminine.  There  is  a  class  of  girls 
who  need  just  such  instruction  ;  namely,  the  girls 
who  whistle  to  call  the  clerks  from,  the  store, 
and  those  who  in  other  ways  manifest  this  same 
tendency  to  overstep  the  rules  of  good  breeding. 
I  cannot  think  of  a  better  place  for  parents  to 
place  their  daughters  wrho  tend  in  this  direction. 
But  even  then  I  would  not  insist  on  keeping 
them  in  such  a  school  until  their  education  was 
completed,  unless  they  failed  to  overcome  the 
tendency  which  made  it  seem  wise  to  send  them 
to  such  a  school.  When  they  have  grown  older 
and  wiser  by  the  instruction  which  they  have  re- 
ceived, I  would  send  them  for  a  few  years  to  one 
of  the  best  universities,  where  they  could  com- 
plete their  education." 

"Do  you  think  then,  Doctor,"  she  asked,  "that 
the  education  received  at  our  universities  is  supe- 
rior to  that  obtained  at  these  colleges  ?" 


572  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

"  Certainly  I  do,"  I  replied.  "Such  schools  Are 
necessary,  as  I  have  said,  for  a  class  of  girls,  and 
similar  schools  are  necessary  for  a  class  of  boys 
who  need  to  be  restrained  and  watched  and  guided  ; 
but  the  university  is  the  place  for  men  and  women 
who  desire  to  become  educated.  What  would  we 
say  if  all  professors  in  the  universities  were 
unmarried  men  ?  If  I  should  advocate  such  an 
arrangement,  you  would  simply  laugh  at  me,  and 
say  that  we  outgrew  that  folly  as  we  emerged 
from  the  Dark  Ages,  and  that  as  we  approached 
the  meridian  of  greatest  light,  our  professors  were 
nearly  all  married.  Those  high  in  authority  in 
our  educational  work,  are  looking  for  women  who 
have  most  thoroughly  prepared  themselves  to  take 
responsible  positions  as  instructors,  and  before 
many  years,  women  will  occupy  professorships  in 
our  greatest  universities." 

"  Would  it  be  difficult,"  she  asked,  "to  get  such 
a  position  ?  " 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  said  I,  "  that  women  lack,  as  a 
rule,  the  staying  power.  They  are  too  easily  sat- 
isfied. It  is  difficult  for  men  to  get  such  positions, 
and  still  more  difficult  for  women,  simply  because 
they  never  have  filled  them.  Let  the  graduates 
continue  two  or  three  years  longer  in  the  higher 
courses  of  study  and  in  teaching,  and  they  will  ac- 
quire that  superiority,  in  their  chosen  department, 
which  will  enable  them  to  command  positions 
worthy  of  their  attainments.  When  women  follow 
this  method,  as  do  some  men,  they  will  succeed.1' 


WOMEN  COMPETE    WITH  MEN.  573 

"  Is  there  any  difference,  Doctor,"  she  asked, 
"between  Cornell  and  other  universities?" 

"Yes,  there  is  quite  a  marked  difference,"  I  an- 
swered ;  "  and  some  of  these  differences  are  quite 
worthy  of  your  attention.  The  old  idea  that  gov- 
erned all  universities  was  that  a  man  should  have  a 
liberal  education  in  books.  Jie  should  study  Greek, 
Latin,  and  mathematics.  Later,  some  of  the  sciences 
were  introduced,  as  botany,  geology,  and  chem- 
istry. 

"  Cornell  tries  to  make  everything  practical.  The 
student  must  learn  to  use  the  tools  himself,  not 
look  on  and  see  the  instructor  use  them.  He 
must  learn  to  work  in  chemistry  and  geology.  In 
mechanics  he  must  mold  his  castings,  turn  his 
shafts,  and  test  the  strength  of  his  materials.  In 
learning  to  teach,  he  must  hear  classes  recite  under 
the  critical  eye  of  the  head  of  the  department. 
Two  practical,  far-seeing  men,  President  White 
and  Mr.  Cornell,  mapped  out  the  path  for  Cornell 
University,  and  then  stood  by  the  work  until  they 
demonstrated  that  their  ideas  of  what  a  university 
should  teach,  were  correct." 

"  But  what  advantage,"  she  asked,  "  is  it  to  a 
woman  to  attend  such  a  university  rather  than  a 
woman's  college  ? " 

"  It  is  not  easy,"  I  replied,  "  to  indicate  at  a 
moment's  notice  all  the  advantages  which  may 
accrue  to  the  young  women  who  attend  a  univer- 
sity with  young  men.  Women  who  go  into  a 
profession  must  compete  with  men.  '  Suppose  you 


574  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES, 

were  going  to  become  a  lawyer  or  a  doctor ;  it 
would  certainly  be  an  advantage  to  you  to  receive 
your  instruction  from  the  same  educators  who  are 
teaching  the  men  with  whom  you  must  contend 
for  your  business.  The  business  man  will  have 
more  confidence  in  you  and  be  more  ready  to 
employ  you  when  he  knows  that  you  stood  high 
in  your  class  with  men  who  are  considered  the 
best  in  their  profession.  By  associating  with  men 
while  they  are  being  educated,  you  are  establish- 
ing yourself  in  their  esteem.  You  are  gaining 
confidence  in  your  education  and  in  yourself.  By 
knowing  how  they  were  educated,  you  are  better 
able  to  judge  how  to  manage  your  business.  You 
learn  very  much  that  is  practical  and  exceedingly 
useful,  because  you  come  in  contact  with  men.  It 
might  not  be  out  of  the  way  to  say  that  you  learn 
to  be  manly,  and  by  this  I  mean  that  you  do  things 
as  men  do  them.  You  know  men  better  than  if 
you  had  been  only  among  women,  and  this  makes 
you  more  acceptable  to  men  ;  and  to  be  successful, 
you  must  not  forget  that  the  great  volume  of  busi- 
ness is  in  the  hands  of  men.  It  is  therefore  well 
to  accept  their  modes  of  doing  business." 

"  But  is  there  anything  in  the  practical  line,"  she 
asked,  "  that  a  woman  can  do  ?  " 

"  Why  not,  since  you  are  good  in  mathematics 
be  an  engineer  or  an  architect  ? "  I  replied. 

"What  does  the  engineer  have  to  do?"  she 
asked. 

"  He  makes  "the  plans  and  drawings,"  I  replied, 


JULIA. 


GREAT  EARNESTNESS.  575 

"for  railroads  and  all  kinds  of  bridges  and  ma- 
chinery, while  the  architect  makes  the  plans  and 
drawings  for  houses.  They  must  be  thoroughly 
acquainted  with  all  methods  of  construction." 

"  Do  you  think  a  woman,"  she  asked,  "  could 
learn  to  work  at  such  a  business  ? " 

"  O  certainly,"  said  I ;  "  women  are  already  meet- 
ing with  great  success  in  office  work  as  draughts- 
men, both  in  New  York  and  Europe.  A  very  few 
women  have  graduated  as  architects,  and  one  is  a 
student  of  engineering.  It  is  not  very  difficult." 

"  I  must  think  of  it,"  she  replied. 

"  You  could  succeed  in  any  department,"  said  I. 
"You  need  only  to  make  up  your  mind,  and  suc- 
cess will  follow." 

Months  afterwards  we  had  a  few  moments'  chat, 
when  with  a  bright  smile  she  told  me  that  she  had 
given  up  the  idea  of  going  away  from  home  to  at- 
tend college,  and  that  she  intended  to  try  and  win 
one  of  the  scholarships  given  to  those  who  pass 
the  best  examination  after  graduating  in  the  high 
school.  From  that  day  I  felt  confident  she  was 
in  earnest  in  her  work,  and  had  a  purpose  in  life. 
I  heard  from  time  to  time  that  her  standing  in 
school  was  the  highest.  I  chanced  to  meet  her 
on  the  street  the  morning  before  the  final  exam- 
ination, and  I  said  to  her  that  a  good  rule  in  ex- 
aminations was  to  answer  as  rapidly  as  possible 
all  the  questions  that  were  easily  answered,  and 
save  to  the  last  all  the  hard  questions,  and  not 
abandon  them  until  the  last  moment  for  closing 

37 


576  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

the  examination.  As  had  been  expected,  Julia 
won  the  first  scholarship,  and  I  called  to  congratu- 
late her. 

"  Brava !  Brava!"  said  I,  "you  have  won  tri- 
umphantly ;  we  are  all  proud  of  you." 

Her  pleasure  was  great,  and  yet  her  success  did 
not  make  her  forget  those  who  had  tried  equally 
hard,  and  had  failed.  Her  voice  was  soft  and 
pathetic  when  she  said,  "  I  am  glad  that  I  have 
succeeded,  but  I  would  be  so  very  happy  if  there 
were  only  enough  university  scholarships  to  give 
one  to  each  pupil  who  entered  the  contest.  They 
are  all  so  nice,  such  good  scholars,  and  I  would  be 
so  happy  could  we  all  go  up  to  the  university 
together."  This  was  a  surprise  to  me,  and  added 
greatly,  in  my  eyes,  to  her  beauty  of  character.  * 

Everybody  interested  in  students  at  the  univer- 
sity, knows  that  a  number  of  prizes,  each  worth 
about  two  hundred  dollars  a  year,  are  distributed  to 
those  passing  the  best  examinations.  To  win  such 
a  prize  is  worth  more  than  the  cash  offered.  It 
gives  the  students,  the  champions,  a  higher  stand- 
ing in  everything.  I  cautioned  Julia  about  spend- 
ing any  time  at  present  on  her  studies.  I  advised 
her  to  take  three  weeks'  rest,  all  play  if  possible, 
but  better  play  and  work,  rather  than  any  study. 
At  the  end  of  that  time  I  advised  her  to  commence 
a  review  of  her  mathematics,  using  the  forenoons 
only  for  study  during  the  warm  weather  of  July. 
She  rested  in  play  during  three  weeks,  and  took 
up  her  work  as  indicated,  and  kept  in  good 


CONTEST  EXAMINATION1. 

health.  She  had  ample  time  for  review,  and  dur- 
ing the  last  three  weeks  accepted  the  aid  of  one 
who  had  often  been  over  the  subjects  as  student 
and  teacher. 

As  the  time  approached  for  this  final  examina- 
tion, the  deep  solicitude  that  had  previously  an- 
noyed me  returned.  I  seemed  almost  as  anxiously 
interested  as  if  it  were  my  own  affair.  I  knew  full 
well  that  many  colleges  and  seminaries  were 
making  special  effort  to  prepare  students  for  these 
contest  examinations,  for  it  is  a  feather  in  the  hat 
of  any  instructor  to  prepare  the  pupil  who  wins  the 
prize.  The  day  before  examination  I  called  upon 
Julia,  and  was  pleased  to  see  her  in  the  best  of 
health,  full  of  life  and  calm  self-possession.  She 
was  looking  forward  to  the  morrow  hopefully. 

"  I  have  learned,"  said  she,  "  from  my  former 
examinations,  that  the  shortest  expression  show- 
ing I  understand  an  example,  will  satisfy  the 
examiner,  and  this  gives  me  a  chance  to  go 
rapidly  through  the  examples  that  I  clearly  un- 
derstand." 

Of  course  the  examiners  must  give  more  prob- 
lems to  be  worked  than  any  pupil  can  possibly 
solve  in  the  time  allowed,  and  for  this  reason  those 
engaged  in  the  contest  can  form  no  adequate  idea 
of  their  own  success,  because  they  know  they  have 
left  many  problems  which  they  have  not  attempted 
to  solve.  For  this  reason,  Julia  felt  discouraged 
at  the  close  of  the  day's  examination.  But  she 
was  cheerful  and  very  emphatic  that  whatever  the 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

result  might  be,  such  an  examination  was  the 
surest  test  of  what  one  really  knew. 

"  For  my  part,"  said  she,  "  I  shall  be  glad  to  re- 
ceive the  prize  ;  but  if  I  do  not,  I  shall  enter  my 
class  fully  satisfied  that  the  one  who  receives  it 
knows  more  of  mathematics  than  I  do,  and  I  will 
rejoice  with  his  friends,  for  I  shall  have  a  profound 
respect  for  the  successful  candidate." 

The  next  day  it  was  announced  that  Julia  was 
among  those  who  gained  prizes,  and  her  numerous 
friends  were  delighted  to  congratulate  her  on  her 
success.  She  accepted  their  congratulations  with 
modesty  and  seriousness. 

"  I  know,  Doctor,"  said  she,  "  that  this  success 
places  me  under  greater  responsibility  than  if  I 
had  not  succeeded.  My  friends  will  expect  more 
of  me  in  my  university  work,  and  so,  too,  will  the 
professors.  If  I  should  fall  behind  in  my  standing 
in  the  university,  it  would  have  been  better  for 
me  had  I  not  gained  this  prize." 

"  I  am  very  glad,"  I  replied,  "  to  see  how  thor- 
oughly you  understand  your  accumulated  responsi- 
bility. You  will  show  yourself  worthy  of  your 
position  and  the  trust  that  is  placed  in  you." 

"  I  am  glad  to  know  that  you  think  so,"  she 
replied,  "and  I  shall  do  my  best  to  meet  your  high 
expectations.  I  have  to-day  heard  some  good 
news." 

"  Anything,"  I  asked,  "  in  which  I  am  interested  ?" 

"  Certainly,"  said  she,  "  for  Emma  is  going  to 
enter  the  university.  How  very  fortunate  I  am  to 


YOU  MAKE    US  PROUD.^ 

have  my  dearest  friend,  one  who  is  such  an  excel- 
lent scholar,  and  as  beautiful  as  she  is  amiable, 
join  me  when  I  enter  the  university.  Only  'speak 
of  angels  and  you  may  hear  the  rustle  of  their 
wings  ; '  for  there  comes  Emma." 

Congratulations  and  embraces  of  affection  be- 
tween the  two  girls  were  hardly  completed  before 
Henrietta  made  her  appearance,  followed  soon  by 
Clarence,  Oliver,  and  Henry.  Hand  shaking  and 
congratulations  were  the  order  of  the  day. 

"You  make  us  proud,  Julia,"  said  Clarence,  "by 
your  great  success  ;  and  yet  we  knew  all  the  time 
you  would  succeed." 

"  Of  course  we  did,"  said  Henry.  "  And  the  fact 
that  our  Juliagained  the  highest  prize  makes  us  feel, 
to  a  certain  extent,"as  if  we  did  it  ;  for  is  she  not  our 
Julia?  And  do  you  enter  the  university  with  her, 
Emma  ?" 

"Yes,"  said  Emma,  "with  her,  yet  not  exactly 
with  her  ;  for  I  shall  take  the  department  of  phi- 
losophy, and  this  will  not  bring  us  as  closely  to- 
gether as  I  desire." 

"  It  makes  me  feel  like  changing  my  plans,"  said 
Julia,  "and  joining  Emma  in  philosophy,  when  I 
think  of  the  delightful  lectures  she  will  hear  from 
the  genius  who  presides  over  the  superior  depart- 
ment of  philosophy." 

"Henrietta,  why  don't  you  join  the  girls?" 
asked  Clarence,  "  and  then  our  three  graces  will 
be  in  the  university  together?  " 

"  My  taste  does  not  run  in  that  direction,"  re- 


580  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

plied  Henrietta.  "  If  my  father  will  consent,  I  will 
take  up  book-keeping,  and  later  enter  father's  bank 
as  a  book-keeper." 

"But  it  seems  so  very  absurd,"  said  Henry,  "for 
you  to  be  preparing"  for  a  book-keeper.  You 
will  have  enough  without  it." 

"Enough  or  not  enough,"  said  Henrietta,  "  has 
absolutely  nothing  to  do  with  the  question.  Young 
men  want  a  business  to  make  them  independent. 
So  do  young  women." 

"I'm  glad  to  hear  you  talk  so,"  said  Oliver,  "for 
I  prefer  the  practical  side  of  life  myself.  I  am  go- 
ing to  do  something.  Others  may  go  to  the  uni- 
versity, but  I  would  prefer  to  graduate  in  some  shop 
as  a  contractor  and  builder." 

"This  is  a  good  time  to  confess,  Henry,"  said 
Emma.  "  What  are  you  going  to  follow  ? " 

"Ah  !  let  me  see,"  said  Henry;  "Clarence,  an 
engineer  ;  Emma,  a  philosopher  ;  Julia,  an  architect ; 
Oliver,  a  contractor  ;  Henrietta,  a  banker  ;  there  is 
but  little  left  for  me.  Washington  and  Lincoln 
appear  to  have  been  the  only  ones  who  attained 
great  distinction  in  speaking  the  truth.  The  times 
are  ripe  for  them  to  have  a  worthy  successor,  and 
I  will  follow  their  profession,  and  be  a  teacher." 

"  Does  it  make  any  difference,  Doctor,"  asked 
Oliver,  "what  one's  calling  is,  if  it  is  honorable  ?" 

"I  am  unable  to  see  how  there  can  be  any  differ- 
ence between  those  of  various  callings,"  I  replied. 
"It  is  not  what  we  work  at  that  makes  a  difference 
in  us,  but  how  we  improve  ourselves.  The  Creator 


THEIR  PATHS  DIVERGE.  53  r 

has  given  each  a  certain  endowment,  and  if  each 
uses  what  is  given  him  to  the  best  of  his  ability, 
will  not  all  stand  on  the  same  footing  ?  Who  is 
competent  to  say  that  a  farmer  is  higher  than  a 
preacher,  or  a  hod-carrier  higher  than  a  lawyer  ? 
Much  depends,  no  doubt,  on  the  conscientious  use  of 
the  ability  given.  He  who  strives  most  earnestly  for 
the  self-improvement  of  all  his  powers  and  gifts, 
will  be  highest." 

Thus  far  the  young  people  appeared  to  be 
traveling  together,  but  now  their  paths  seemed 
to  diverge.  This  caused  me  sadness,  but  the 
young  people  only  looked  forward  to  the  distinc- 
tion that  appeared  to  be  awaiting  each  of  them. 

Julia's  work  in  the  university  was  very  satisfac- 
tory from  the  first,  and  before  the  close  of  the  first 
year  it  was  remarked  by  the  professor  in  mathemat- 
ics that  she  was  the  first  to  demonstrate  that  a 
woman  could  understand  mathematics.  The  doubt- 
ing young  men  found  her  small  white  hands  quite 
as  skillful  as  their  own  in  molding  clay  and  plaster 
of  Paris,  and  year  by  year  their  respect  for  her  grew 
more  profound.  She  was  a  weekly  worker  among 
the  poor  of  the  city  in  the  missionary  Sabbath- 
school.  She  became  endeared  not  only  to  profes- 
sors, students,  and  citizens,  but  also  to  the  children 
of  the  poor  whom  she  taught  and  cheered  by  her 
presence  and  example. 

Henry's  work  in  the  university  was  as  great  a 
success  as  his  most  ardent  admirers  had  predicted 


5  82  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLTES. 

for  him.  Being  as  fond  of  sport  as  of  study,  he 
was  among  the  first  to  enjoy  the  skating  on  Casca- 
dilla  Pond.  So  many  came  that  some  sought  the  up- 
per pond,  and  among  these  was  Henry.  Too  many 
collected  upon  the  ice,  and  before  he  had  put  on 
his  skates,  the  ice  gave  way,  and  a  young  lady 
near  him  was  precipitated  into  the  water.  Henry, 
conscious  of  his  ability  as  a  swimmer,  felt,  no 
doubt,  that  he  could  rescue  her,  and  plunged  into 
the  cold  stream.  She  was  utterly  helpless,  and 
although  he  struggled  manfully,  he  was  unable  to 
drag  her  out.  Indeed,  she  held  to  him  so  tightly 
that  his  efforts  to  release  himself  were  unavailing, 
and  she  sank  lower  and  Ipwer,  dragging  Henry 
with  her.  Although  many  were  near,  no  aid  could 
be  given,  and  both  perished  within  a  few  feet  of 
the  shore. 

The  report  of  the  catastrophe  reached  Clarence, 
and  he  was  soon  upon  the  spot.  Seeing  that 
Henry's  body  could  be  recovered  only  by  diving, 
Clarence  stripped  himself  for  the  task,  and  by  div- 
ing again  and  again,  soon  recovered  the  remains. 

Sad,  sad  indeed  was  our  little  company,  when 
Clarence,  with  eyes  bedewed  with  sorrowful  tears, 
narrated  to  us  the  circumstances  of  this  melancholy 
event. 

"Henry,"  continued  Clarence,  "  was  the  joy  of 
our  little  company,  the  sparkling  mind  that  gave 
us  most  pleasure.  His  fun  and  mischief  were 
always  kindly,  and  his  laugh  most  joyous.  He 
always  delighted  me." 

"  To  me,"  said  Julia,  "  he  was  a  younger  brother, 


OF  THJC 

UNIVERSITY 


CLARENCE. 


NOBLE   QUALITIES.  583 

and  I  found  great  pleasure  in  watching  his  devel- 
opment." 

"  He  was  a  brother  and  a  friend  to  me,"  said 
tienrietta.  "  His  purity  and  noble  qualities  should, 
in  some  way,  be  honored.  He  desired  to  be  a 
teacher  ;  and  by  giving  his  life  for  another,  he  has 
followed  the  example  of  the  greatest  Teacher  ;  and 
I  think  we  must  perpetuate  the  lesson  of  his  life, 
by  erecting  to  his  memory  a  monument  inscribed 
with  his  noble  deed.  I  shall  undertake  this  task 
myself.  Yes  ;  more  than  this,  I  shall  assume  the 
care  of  the  little  girl  whom  Henry  had  adopted, 
and  give  her  a  home  and  a  good  education.' 

Never  had  I  seen  Clarence  looking  so  well  as 
when  he  returned  from  the  rowing  contests  during 
his  senior  year.  He  was  erect,  lithe,  and  graceful, 
and  as  brown  as  a  berry.  Every  muscle  was  well 
developed,  and  his  increased  chest  measurement 
indicated  a  pair  of  thoroughly  developed  lungs 
and  a  heart  for  every  duty. 

"  What  do  you  say  about  the  advantages  of 
rowing?"  I  asked  him.  "  There  may  be  men,"  he 
replied,  "who  devote  too  much  time  and  thought 
to  it,  but  it  has  been  a  great  advantage  to  me. 
My  system  seems  to  need  hard  work  to  keep  it 
in  good  condition.  Rowing  does  not  weary  me, 
and  it  enables  me  to  learn  more  and  remember 
it  better.  I  delight  in  the  sport,  and  the  pros- 
pect of  a  good  contest  arouses  my  physical  and 
mental  energies.  I  can  do  more  in  every  di- 
rection. Our  victory  over  Columbia's  crew  was 


584  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

remarkable.  We  started  in  at  a  quick  stroke,  and 
Columbia,  thinking  we  were  spurting,  did  her  ut- 
most, and  managed  to  keep  up  for  a  short  dis- 
tance ;  but  the  stroke  was  too  rapid  for  her  crew, 
and  we  won  with  ease. 

"But  our  greatest  victory  was  over  the  Univer- 
sity of  Pennsylvania.  It  was  our  last  year  for  gain- 
ing and  retaining  the  fifteen  hundred  dollar  silver 
cup  given  by  Mr.  Childs  to  the  university  rowing 
crews.  Our  eight  men  worked  together  like  one 
man  under  every  condition  in  which  we  had  been 
tried,  and  we  hoped  for  success. 

"  In  the  toss-up  for  sides  Pennsylvania's  crew  won, 
and  this  gave  us  the  more  difficult  side.  We  were 
nicely  under  way,  each  doing  the  utmost  to  get 
the  lead,  and  yet  neither  crew  gaining  on  the 
other,  when  a  great  wave  struck  both  boats.  It 
lifted  the  other  boat  gently,  but  broke  over  our 
crew,  striking  some  men  on  the  back  and  going 
over  the  heads  of  others,  and  almost  filling  our 
boat  with  water.  We  lost  our  steady  stroke,  and 
for  a  moment  I  thought  we  would  be  turned  out 
into  the  river.  But  seeing  our  trainer  running  out 
into  the  river  where  it  was  knee  deep  and  hearing 
his  commanding  voice  to  keep  steady  and  pull  to- 
gether, gave  us  fresh  hope.  We  pulled  for  dear 
life,  and  the  cheers  of  our  friends  told  us,  what  we 
could  not  see,  that  we  were  gaining.  By  the  most 
tremendous  effort  we  regained  the  two  lengths 
lost  by  the  wave,  and  won  the  race,  and  not  one  of 
our  men  showed  any  symptoms  of  overwork." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

HELPING    EACH    OTHER. 

THE  Young  Men's  Association  of  Cornell  Uni- 
versity, should  call  forth  the  admiration  of  all 
persons  who  are  desirous  of  a  spontaneous,  sin- 
cere spiritual  development  among  young  men. 
No  denomination  cracks  a  spiritual  whip  over  the 
students  who  congregate  under  the  shadow  of 
Cornell,  and  yet  a  large  number  of  young  men 
associate  themselves  together  for  mutual  benefit 
and  growth  in  their  spiritual  life.  They  are 
preparing  for  a  grand  work  in  the  future.  The 
habitation  of  the  association  is  also  the  home  of 
philosophy,  and  the  development  of  the  two, 
thus  closely  related*  will,  in  time,  prove  beneficial 
to  both.  I  was  glad  to  learn  that  Clarence  had 
joined  this  band  of  working  brothers,  and  was  on 
the  roll  of  active  members.  I  heard  him  give  a 
talk  before  the  White  Cross  Army,  which  was 
instructive  and  impressive. 

"  Fellows,"  said  he,  "  some  of  you,  no  doubt, 
know  quite  as  much  about  the  origin  and  object 
and  working  of  the  White  Cross  Army  as  I  do, 
and  perhaps  more,  but  some  have  requested  a 
statement  of  these  facts,  and  I  will  give  them  to 
you  briefly,  so  that  no  one  will  fail  to  understand 
for  what  we  are  working. 

(585) 


$86  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

"  Some  time  in  1883,  the  Bishop  of  Dunham,  in 
England,  aided  by  his  associates,  formed  a  society 
of  which  they  said,  '  The  object  of  this  Army  shall 
be  the  promotion  of  purity  among  young  men,  the 
elevation  of  public  opinion  regarding  the  question 
of  personal  purity,  and  the  maintenance  of  the 
same  standard  for  men  and  women.' 

"  The  object  of  the  society,  as  you  observe,  was 
to  get  all  good  men  to  work  together,  and  to  get 
young  men  especially  to  join  in  creating  a  public 
sentiment  that  would  protect  women. 

"  They  signed  the  following  pledge  : 

"  '  I  promise,  by  the  help  of  God, 

"'First,  To  treat  all  women  with  respect,  and 
endeavor  to  protect  them  from  wrong  and  degra- 
dation. Second,  To  endeavor  to  put  down  all 
indecent  language  and  coarse  jests.  Third,  To 
maintain  the  laws  of  moral  purity  as  equally  bind- 
ing upon  all  men.  Fourth,  To  endeavor  to  spread 
these  principles  among  my  companions,  and  try  to 
help  my  younger  brothers.  Fifth,  To  use  every 
possible  means  to  fulfill  the  command,  "Keep 
thyself  pure.'" 

"To  'keep  thyself  pure,'  no  doubt,  has  been  the 
object  of  all  the  fellows  before  me  at  this  moment, 
but  up  to  this  time  each  one  has  been  acting  indi- 
vidually, and  it  has  been  deemed  wise  that  all  who 
are  so  minded  should  work  together,  and  thus  in- 
crease their  strength.  Since  union  will  give  the 
movement  strength,  it  is  certainly  wise  to  act  not 
wholly  for  self,  but  also  for  others.  By  making 


PROTECT  ALL    WOMEN.  587 

known  what  we  are  working  for,  we  may  get  others 
to  join  us,  and  in  this  way  we  are  helping  them, 
and  by  working  to  protect  all  women,  we  are  aid- 
ing not  only  the  present  but  future  generations. 
Women  need  all  the  protection  we  can  afford  them, 
not  only  against  many  bad  men,  but  also  against 
too  many  bad  women,  who  are  ready  and  anxious 
to  drag  down  other  women  and  other  men.  Mis- 
ery seeks  company,  and  envy  prompts  the  envious 
to  injure  others  and  debase  them.  We  need,  then, 
to  protect  women  against  both  men  and  women  ; 
and  we  need,  quite  as  much,  to  protect  young  men 
against  the  evil  influence  of  bad  women  and  men. 
We  are  told  that  there  has  been  a  double  standard  ; 
one  for  women  and  another  for  men.  Caesar  de- 
manded that  his  wife  should  be  '  above  suspicion/ 
but  claimed  no  such  purity  for  himself.  The  world 
has  had  too  many  men  like  Caesar.  When  a  woman 
sins,  she  is  driven  from  society  ;  let  society  now 
drive  out  the  man  who  sins.  We  are  called  upon 
to  make  this  unwritten  law  and  enforce  it.  The 
university  would  expel  a  young  woman  who 
should  violate  the  seventh  commandment,  and  we 
are  to  create  an  unwritten  law  that  will  compel 
the  authorities  to  expel  the  young  man  from  the 
university  who  violates  the  seventh  command- 
ment, rather  than  graduate  him  with  honors. 

"We  must  demonstrate  that  there  is  no  reason 
why  there  should  be  a  double  standard.  We  all 
recognize  the  fact  that  we  expect  purity  in  our 
mothers  and  sisters  ;  and  for  them,  and  for  another 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

whom  I  do  not  need  to  name,  but  whom  we  must 
always  take  into  consideration  when  we  think  of 
our  own  tenderest  love  and  affection,  and  in  whom 
we  expect  to  find  beauty,  purity,  and  truth,  let  us 
maintain  that  truth  and  purity  in  ourselves  which 
we  expect  in  them." 

The  young-  men  were  deeply  impressed  with  his 
remarks.  The  fact  that  he  was  one  of  the  crew, 
and  a  leading  athlete,  gave  him  more  than  ordi- 
nary influence  with  the  students,  and  numbers 
signed  as  active  members  in  the  noble  society. 

The  ability  to  talk  in  such  a  manner  as  attracted 
the  fellows  at  the  university,  not  only  made 
Clarence  influential  on  the  campus,  but  wherever 
he  was  known.  At  Ithaca  the  Young  Men's  Chris- 
tian Association  has  taken  into  its  fold  not  only 
the  young  men  but  the  boys  of  the  city,  and  in 
this  they  have  shown  great  wisdom.  In  securing 
Clarence  to  train  the  boys  in  athletics  three  times 
a  week,  they  were  particularly  fortunate. 

In  everything  that  Clarence  undertook,  I  felt  a 
deep  interest.  I  liked  to  drop  in  wherever  he  was 
engaged,  and  share  his  success  ;  for  I  never  knew 
him  to  make  a  failure.  Then,  too,  he  had  such  a 
kindly  way  of  asking  my  approval  of  his  plans, 
and  my  suggestions  as  to  his  methods  that,  possi- 
bly, I  felt,  at  times,  as  if  I  was  doing  some  good 
myself.  One  of  his  talks  to  the  boys  was  so  very 
practical  and  yet  unique  that  I  noted  it  down, 
because  I  thought  it  worthy  of  record. 

We  had  been  watching  the  boys  in  their  sports 


A    GOOD    TALKER. 

for  some  minutes  when  he  stopped  before  his 
desk,  and  rapped  slightly'on  it  with  a  key.  At 
once  all  the  boys  stopped  to  hear  what  was  to  be 
said.  All  eyes  were  directed  toward  him. 

"You  all  remember,  fellows,"  said  he,  "that  I 
was  going  to  talk  to  you  this  evening,  and  if  you 
will  come  this  way,  I  will  detain  you  but  a  few 
minutes." 

They  collected  around  him,  some  sitting  on  the 
floor,  but  most  of  them  standing,  and  all  paying 
the  best  attention. 

"You  observe,"  he  continued,  "that  we  have 
company  this  evening,  and  I  only  mention  this 
that  you  may  remember  to  behave  just  as  well  as 
when  we  have  no  company.  Some  boys  are  too 
apt,  when  we  have  company,  to  desire  to  show  off; 
or,  as  one  young  lady  expressed  it,  they  'try  to 
draw  too  much  attraction.'  Such  action  is  not  to 
be  commended.  Try  to  be  natural  and  give  your 
attention  to  your  business,  and  not  to  the  visitors. 
I  am  going  to  tell  you  something  about  my  visit 
when  I  was  invited  to  talk  to  a  Young  Men's 
Christian  Association.  In  the  first  place,  they  had 
much  nicer  rooms  than  we  have  here.  The  rooms 
were  higher,  the  walls  nicely  papered,  and  the 
floors  were  covered  in  the  parlor  with  a  nice  car- 
pet ;  in  the  office  was  a  carpet,  in  the  reading-room 
a  rich  oilcloth,  and  the  other  floors  were  of  hard 
wood  nicely  oiled  and  varnished.  They  had  a 
very  nice  desk  in  the  office,  and  a  beautiful  piano 
in  the  parlor.  Then  the  fellows,  as  they  came  in, 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

were  all  dressed  in  the  finest  clothes.  When  they 
went  to  athletics,  they  were  dressed  in  suits  made 
on  purpose,  like  tights,  and  they  made  a  fine  ap- 
pearance ;  but  their  work  was  no  better  than  we 
have  in  this  room.  They  listened  attentively  to 
my  talk,  but  when  the  hymn  was  to  be  sung,  they 
depended  so  much  on  the  piano  that  really  our 
music  without  any  instrument  is  better  than  theirs. 
I  asked  if  any  one  could  sing  a  solo  with  the  piano, 
or  if  they  had  a  musical  club,  and  they  had  none. 
Nor  had  they  an  embryo  orchestra  as  we  have. 
I  learned  that  nearly  all  the  young  men  belonged 
to  the  best  families,  and  no  .boys  were  admitted. 
They  *  did  n't  want  kids,'  I  was  told. 

"  I  learned  that  the  association  was  instituted 
and  managed  by  the  best  business  men,  as  in  other 
cities  ;  and  yet  the  young  men  who  enjoyed  all 
the  advantages  that  the  association  could  furnish, 
were  unwilling  to  do  anything  for  the  boys,  or 
*  kids '  as  they  termed  them.  As  I  thought  of  these 
one  hundred  young  men  who  belonged  to  the 
association  and  enjoyed  all  its  blessings,  paid  for, 
almost  wholly,  by  others,  I  was  forced  to  compare 
them  to  the  man  who  had  one  hand  very  clean 
and  soft,  with  the  nails  nicely  trimmed,  and  the 
other  very  black  and  cracked  and  dirty,  with  the 
nails  unkept,  and  I  asked  him  why  it  was.  'Well, 
stranger/  said  he,  '  my  right  hand  takes  great 
interest  in  washing,  cleaning,  and  dressing  the 
left  hand  ;  but  I  am  sorry  to  say  the  left  hand  will 
not  do  anything  for  the  right  hand,  so  you  see  it 


ONE  HAND  TO  WASH  THE  OTHER.     591 

has  to  go  just  as  it  can,  and  that  is  pretty  dirty. 
People  who  look  at  me  seem  to  think  I  should  be 
ashamed  of  my  black,  dirty  right  hand  ;  but  I  am 
not  half  so  ashamed  of  it  as  I  am  of  my  left  hand, 
which  is  so  mean  as  to  refuse  to  do  its  duty. 
Every  time  I  look  at  the  right  hand,  I  feel  great 
sympathy  for  it,  because  it  is  so  neglected.  "  Poor, 
slighted  hand,  how  very  faithful  you  are,"  I  say, 
"always  doing  your  duty  and  keeping  the  left 
hand  clean  and  neat."  I  cannot  feel  sympathy 
for  the  left  hand,  because  it  is  so  mean.' 

"  Can  we  learn  something  practical,  boys,  from 
this  fable  ?  You  have  all  heard  many  times,  no 
doubt,  that  one  hand  should  wash  the  other,  and 
if  we  all  would  enforce  this  precept  upon  ourselves, 
the  world  would  soon  become  heaven.  Business 
men,  in  order  to  live  up  to  this  precept,  because 
some  influence  or  power  has  given  them  success 
in  business,  and  enabled  them  to  accumulate 
property,  wish  to  help  others  who  need  their  aid 
and  example.  To  do  this,  they  start  the  Young 
Men's  Christian  Association.  Soon  a  company 
of  young  men  is  aided  in  many  ways,  and  they 
in  turn  make  one  hand  wash  the  other  by  ask- 
ing you  boys  to  come  in  and  share  their  advantages. 
I  would  be  very  much  pleased  if  we  had  nicer 
rooms  and  fine  furniture,  such  as  I  have  mentioned  ; 
but  if  with  such  improvements  the  young  men  who 
form  our  association  were  to  deny  .you  boys  the 
right  to  use  their  rooms  and  say  they  did  not  want 
the  *  kids'  here,  I  would  oppose  such  a  change. 

38 


5  0,2  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

For  if  these  things  which  please  the  outward  man 
are  to  destroy  the  noble  inward  qualities  which 
prompt  those  who  receive  a  benefit  to  pass  it  along 
to  another  who  needs  help,  then  I  am  quite  con- 
tent with  what  we  have.  I  prefer  our  old  clothes 
if  they  are  clean,  and  a  good  patch  for  every  hole, 
like  this  one  on  my  knee,  with  the  true  spirit  of 
kindness  helping  one  another,  to  the  richest 
•surroundings  without  this  spirit.  Try  to  remem- 
ber in  your  work,  your  studies,  and  your  play,  that 
one  hand  must  wash  the  other.  When  you  meet 
a  boy  who  does  not  attend  here,  invite  him  to 
come  with  you,  and  we  will  try  to  do  him  good." 
Never  before  had  I  noticed  that  Clarence  wore, 
as  upon  this  occasion,  a  patch  upon  one  knee.  I 
wondered  if  he  had  out  of  kindness  and  politeness, 
arranged  this  patch  so  that  his  clothing  might 
correspond  with  the  patched  clothing  of  the  boys 
whom  he  was  teaching.  Certainly  the  patch  made 
him  nearer  akin  to  his  pupils.  I  reflected  how 
very  useful  such  a  young  man  is  to  any  com- 
munity. Half  a  dozen  preachers  have  less  in- 
fluence over  the  boys  than  one  such  companion- 
able leader.  He  was  busy  with  his  lectures  in  the 
university,  and  worked  in  the  rowing  team  largely 
because  he  was  helping  others,  yet  he  found  time 
to  teach  the  boys  in  the  evening  without  compen- 
sation, except  the  character-building,  which  was 
his  own.  Thus  he  formed  habits  that  adorn  like 
a  necklace  of  pearls.  I  admired  and  loved  him 
more  and  more  because  he  was  using  and  de- 


THE  OLD  INDIAN  CHIEF.  593 

veloping  his  Godlike  qualities  by  helping  to 
gather  the  lambs  into  the  sheepfold. 

Clarence  was  often  called  upon  to  talk  to  boys, 
because  he  was  so  very  successful  in  impressing 
them  with  right  ideas.  He  pointed  out  to  the 
newsboys  the  great  advantages  arising  from  strict 
honesty  among  themselves.  Some  of  them  were 
destined  to  become  great  merchants,  because  many 
merchants  whom  he  mentioned  had  been  newsboys 
in  their  youth.  He  insisted  that  character-build- 
ing should  be  the  chief  care  of  all  boys,  so  that 
men  would  esteem  them  for  their  true  worth.  As 
an  illustration  he  told  how  an  old  Indian  chief  in- 
vited one  of  our  generals  to  look  into  his  log  hut. 
The  general  saw  only  an  old  rusty  tin  cup  on  an 
equally  rusty  stove,  and  in  one  corner  some  blank- 
ets for  a  bed.  The  chief  called  his  attention  with 
anxious  expression  to  a  picture  on  the  wall  over 
the  blankets.  It  was  an  old  print  from  Harper's 
Weekly,  representing  the  death  of  President  Gar- 
field.  The  old  chief  looked  long  and  earnestly  and 
very  tenderly  upon  it,  and  then  spoke  one  guttural 
word,  the  only  English  word  he  knew,  "  Garfield." 

What  was  there  in  the  life  of  the  dead  Presi- 
dent to  touch  the  heart  of  this  wild  Indian,  way 
out  in  Montana,  as  it  had  the  hearts  of  all  the 
world  ?  Simply  his  noble  character.  He  had  been 
a  faithful  boy,  a  dutiful  son,  a  patriotic  soldier, 
always  doing  his  duty.  The  dead  President  had 
not  a  sincerer  mourner  than  this  old  Indian,  or  a 
more  eloquent  eulogy  than  his  guttural  "Garfield." 


CHAPTER     XIII. 

THE   SURPRISE. 

"IT  is  positively  absurd,  Clarence,"  I  said,  "  for 
you  to  talk  about  my  going  up  to  the  campus 
because  of  commencement,  for  it  is  such  a  tame 
affair.  O,  no.  Don't  ask  me  to  bother  myself  with 
this  American  method  of  advertising  the  university, 
at  the  expense  of  the  graduates." 

"But,  Doctor,"  said  Clarence,  "to  the  student 
it  means  much  more  than  this.  It  means  the 
successful  termination  of  four  or  more  years  of 
faithful  study  and  diligent  application.  I  am  afraid, 
Doctor,  that  you  forget  about  your  own  gradua- 
tion, and  how  you  looked  at  it  then." 

"  My  own  graduation  :  Arts,  Law,  and  Medi- 
cine," said  I  ;  "yes,  but  I  was  younger,  and  since 
then  I  have  reformed,  and  made  a  resolution  not 
to  graduate  any  more.  It  was  a  habit  I  fell  into 
for  a  time.  I  can  see  the  folly  of  it  now." 

Clarence  only  smiled  at  me  for  a  few  moments, 
and  then  replied,  "The  young  people  hereabouts 
are  just  as  foolish  now  as  you  were  in  your  youth, 
and  want  to  see  the  folly  of  it,  though  most  of 
them  reform  before  it  gets  to  be  a  habit  with 
them  ;  for  they  are  generally  content  with  gradu- 
<594) 


GRA  D  UA  TION.  c|25 

ating  once.  You  should  attend  commencement 
just  to  see  how  much  more  moderate  they  are  than 
you  were  ;  to  see  how  becomingly  they  act  after 
one  graduation.  Then,  too,  you  should  go  this 
year  because  our  girls  graduate." 

"Our  girls!  Julia  and  Emma!"  I  exclaimed. 
"  You  do  n't  tell  me  that  this  hot-bed  growth  in 
the  university  is  turning  out  the  children  at  such 
a  rapid  rate.  It  is  only  a  few  months  since  Julia 
was  quivering  over  the  entrance  examinations." 

"  Yes,"  said  Clarence,  "  it  is  only  a  few  months 
since  they  entered  the  university,  but  it  is  enough 
of  them  to  make  four  years,  and  both  of  the  girls 
are  graduating  with  great  honors." 

"  Four  years  !  Can  it  be  possible  ?  "  said  I.  "  Ah 
me  !  When  we  look  back  over  college  days,  how 
rapidly  time  flies  ! 

"  We  may  well  be  proud,"  said  Clarence,  "  of  our 
girls  ;  for  Emma,  alone,  of  all  the  young  women, 
has  been  selected  to  deliver  an  oration,  and  it  is 
generally  acknowledged  that  she  is  an  able  writer, 
and  her  delivery  cannot  be  surpassed  by  any  mem- 
ber of  the  graduating  class.  Her  standing  in  math- 
ematics is  equal  to  the  best,  and  in  philosophy  she 
has  gained  the  highest  commendation.  Julia  has 
sustained  the  high  standing  she  assumed  on  enter- 
ing the  university,  and  there  is  talk  that  these  two 
may  be  selected  as  Fellows  for  the  ensuing  year, 
an  honor  never  before  conferred  on  women." 

"Well,  well,  well!"  said  I.  "  Can  all  this  be 
true  ?  They  were  such  nice  little  girls.  Why 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

could  they  not  have  remained  little  girls  ?  And 
yet  this  is  what  I  should  expect  of  such  nice, 
bright,  intelligent  girls  as  they  were.  I  think, 
Clarence,  I  shall  go  to  commencement  once  more. 
I  won't  have  to  graduate,  will  I  ? " 

"  O,  no,"  said  Clarence,  "we  will  let  you  off  this 
time.  The  girls  will  do  all  the  graduating  for  the 
whole  company,  for  mind  you,  Henrietta  and  Oli- 
ver will  join  us,  and  we  will  assist  in  class  day  as 
well  as  commencement." 

A  more  perfect  June  day  was  not  possible  than 
when  we  assembled  upon  the  beautiful  Cornell 
campus,  to  assist  in  graduating  our  friends,  the 
young  architect  and  the  young  philosopher.  The 
campus  never  wore  a  deeper  green  of  turf  and 
foliage,  and  never  were  the  flower-beds  more  nu- 
merous, nor  the  flowers  more  brilliantly  beautiful. 
The  new  buildings  on  the  campus  added  their 
architectural  beauty  to  heighten  the  effect  of  the 
landscape,  while  the  extended  view  over  lake  and 
far-away  hills,  filled  the  observer  with  admiration. 
One  could  well  afford,  on  such  a  day,  to  agree 
with  President  White,  that  Cornell  University  was 
the  most  beautiful  place  in  the  world. 

The  friends  of  the  graduates  packed  the  spacious 
gymnasium  before  we  arrived,  and  it  was  well  that 
we  had  reserved  seats,  or  we  should  have  shared 
the  fate  of  those  standing  on  the  outside.  The 
orations  were  above  the  average,  and  it  seemed  to 
me  that  Emma's  was  the  best.  In  a  calm,  pure 
soprano  voice  of  low  pitch,  that  could  be  heard  in 


EMMA 


CORNELL'S  BEAUTIFUL   CAMPUS. 

every  corner  of  the  large  hall,  she  pointed  out  the 
errors  of  the  church  in  not  accepting  the  truths  of 
science.  She  referred  to  St.  Ambrose,  who  taught 
that  the  firmament  was  a  solid  outer  shell  of  the 
universe,  and  the  winds  breaking  through  this 
shell,  caused  thunder.  He  doubted  about  the  re- 
volving of  the  firmament,  but  if  it  did  revolve,  the 
water  is  just  what  is  needed  to  lubricate  and  cool 
its  axis.  She  mentioned  the  teaching  of  St.  Au- 
gustine, that  "nothing  is  to  be  accepted  save  on 
the  authority  of  scripture,  since  greater  is  that 
authority  than  all  the  powers  of  the  human  mind." 
"Upon, such  a  foundation,"  said  she,  "science  can- 
not hope  to  advance,"  and  in  proof  of  this  she  cited 
the  belief  of  the  church,  that  the  earth  was  a  par- 
allelogram, with  walls  supporting  the  firmament, 
and  above,  vast  cisterns  of  water,  and  at  the  com- 
mand of  the  Almighty,  the  angels  opened  the 
windows,  and  it  rained.  ^This  was  for  more  than 
a  thousand  years  the  universal  belief  of  the  church. 

"When  the  great  prophets,  Copernicus  and  Gali- 
leo, came  teaching  the  word  and  power  of  God  as 
seen  in  the  heavens,  they  were  rejected  and  tram- 
pled under  foot  by  the  church.  In  time,  the  fool- 
ishness of  the  church  appeared  clear  to  all  thinking 
minds,  and  the  new  science  of  astronomy  stood  on 
a  firm  foundation. 

"  One  hundred  years  later  Buffon  was  forced  by 
the  church  to  recant,  as  Galileo  had  done,  and  yet 
the  truths  he  taught  were  as  firmly  established  as 
the  revolution  of  the  earth  on  its  axis. 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

"Peter  Martyr  declared  that  if  a  wrong  opinion 
should  be  held  regarding  the  creation  as  described 
in  Genesis,  'all  the  promises  of  Christ  fall  into 
nothing,  and  the  life  of  our  religion  would  be  lost.' 
Luther,  along  with  all  Catholics,  held  this  view. 
John  Wesley  taught  that  death  came  through 
Adam's  fall,  and  'sin  is  the  moral  cause  of  earth- 
quakes, whatever  their  natural  cause  may  be. 
There  were  no  volcanoes  before  Adam's  fall.  No 
animals  attempted  to  devour  each  other  before 
Adam's  sin. '  Adam  Clarke  held  to  the  same  views. 
And  yet  after  a  warfare  of  one  hundred  and  fifty 
years,  geology,  the  science  suggested  by  Leonardo 
da  Vinci,  and  taught  by  Buffon,  was  firmly  estab- 
lished, and  the  church  dogma  overthrown. 

"  Albert  the  Great  taught  that  a  certain  salve 
thrown  into  a  spring  caused  whirlwinds.  The 
popes  and  their  followers  believed  this.  That 
demons  can  produce  rain,  winds,  and  thunder- 
bolts, was  a  dogma  of  faith.  Luther  believed  it, 
and  declared  that  he  had  calmed  more  than  twenty 
storms  caused  by  the  devil,  by  reading  St.  John's 
Gospel,  'the  Word  was  made  flesh.'  A  piece  of 
wax  manufactured  and  blessed  by  the  pope  and 
stamped  with  the  well-known  device  representing 
the  Agnus  Dei,  or  Lamb  of  God,  is  still  in  use,  to 
stay  storms  and  thunderbolts  and  evil  spirits. 

"  This  superior  theological  wisdom  came  to  an 
end  through  that  'arch  fiend,'  Benjamin  Franklin, 
when  he  caught  the  lightning  from  the  clouds,  and 
invented  the  lightning-rod."  She  called  attention 


THE   ORATION. 

to  the  fact  that  close  observation  by  the  micro- 
scope leads  to  closer  investigation,  and  this  ends  in 
new  sciences.  The  church  should  learn  to  listen 
and  wait,  and  let  modern  prophets  unfold  newly 
discovered  laws  without  opposition. 

There  was  nothing  said  that  directed  one's  atten- 
tion to  the  speaker  ;  nor  was  there  a  gesture  from 
beginning  to  end.  The  attention  was  riveted  upon 
the  ideas  presented,  and  one  continued  to  think 
of  them  even  after  the  speaker  disappeared.  We 
had  good  reason  to  be  proud  of  our  orator,  and 
were  delighted  with  the  rounds  of  applause  which 
her  oration  elicited. 

When  the  president  called  for  the  graduates  in 
architecture,  our  Julia  appeared  with  the  four  young 
men  who  were  entitled  to  the  degree  ;  and  when 
he  called  those  who  were  to  graduate  in  philoso- 
phy, our  Emma  was  the  only  woman  among  the 
thirty  young  men  who  received  the  degree  of 
Bachelor  of  Philosophy. 

We  all  attended  class  day,  and  heard  the  orator, 
the  poet,  and  the  historian,  and  saw  the  planting 
of  the  ivy  and  the  smoking  of  the  class  pipe. 
Probably  the  man  of  all  men  in  the  university 
who  has  on  his  mind  the  most  care  and  anxiety, 
and  who  has  to  give  the  closest  and  most  unremit- 
ting attention  to  his  business,  is  the  man  who  has 
the  care  of  the  class  pipe.  If  he  were  allowed  to 
give  bonds  for  a  million  dollars,  he  could  feel  that, 
to  some  extent,  he  had  divided  the  responsibility  ; 
but  this  is  denied  him,  and  he  alone  must  carry 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

the  whole  responsibility.  Some  of  the  girls  only 
passed  the  pipe  when  it  came  to  them.  One  or 
two  tried  it  a  whiff  or  two,  but  our  Julia  gave  it 
two  such  vigorous  puffs  that  the  smoke  and  ashes 
flew  in  volumes,  and  delighted  her  companions, 
who  applauded  her  efforts. 

The  evening  after  graduation  we  spent  with 
Henrietta.  Music  was  the  chief  source  of  enjoy- 
ment, and  it  seemed  to  me  that  our  music  had 
never  been  more  enjoyable.  The  glees  were  ren- 
dered with  a  cheerful,  joyous  spirit,  and  the  solos 
with  warmth  of  feeling.  To  many  it  was  not 
known  that  Emma's  second  name  was  Isabel,  al- 
though she  had  frequently  been  called  the  Belle  of 
Cornell.  She  never  appeared  to  better  advantage 
than  on  this  evening,  and  when  Clarence  sang 
"The  Belle  of  Cornell,"  there  was  marked  appre- 
ciation of  the  song.  The  glee,  "We  are  Cornells," 
was  sung  with  enthusiasm,  and  closed  with  the 
Cornell  yell,  given  with  much  vigor. 

A  few  weeks  after  commencement  we  were  de- 
lighted to  learn  that  Julia  and  Emma  had  been 
appointed  Fellows  in  Cornell  University  for  the 
ensuing  year.  This  was  considered  a  triumph. 

Julia,  by  the  aid  of  a  friendly  architect,  had  an 
excellent  opportunity  to  show  her  skill  in  a  com- 
pleted residence  which  gave  evidence  of  her  future 
success  in  her  chosen  calling.  The  most  influential 
men  and  women  of  the  city  took  the  deepest  in- 
terest in  the  young  woman  who  designed  and 
constructed  one  of  the  most  complete  and  beautiful 


AN  ATTRACTIVE  HOME.  5OI 

homes  in  the  city.  The  owner  was  amply  able  to 
indulge  the  fancy  of  his  architect,  and  the  re- 
sult was  not  a  palace,  but  a  most  attractive  and 
exquisitely  finished  home,  with  every  convenience 
that  the  heart  could  desire  or  skill  invent.  This 
home  was  most  noted  for  what  there  was  inside. 
The  exterior  did  not  attempt  to  astonish  or  delight 
the  beholder  ;  it  simply  tried  to  satisfy,  and  in  this 
it  succeeded.  But  the  interior  was  a  succession  of 
surprises  in  novelty,  and  delights  in  combination. 
Emma  had  no  noble  building  in  wood  and  stone 
to  show  what  she  had  accomplished  during  the 
year  ;  yet  a  few  articles  which,  by  the  request  of 
her  instructors,  appeared  in  the  magazines,  made 
her  known,  and  before  the  close  of  the  year,  a  chair 
in  philosophy  had  been  offered  her  in  a  western 
college.  Clarence  had  been  engaged  in  business 
for  more  than  a  year,  'and  already  a  number  of  sub- 
stantial structures  testified  to  his  engineering  skill. 

It  had  become  just  as  natural  for  us  to  think  of 
Clarence  and  Julia  together  as  it  is  to  mention  the 
sun  and  moon  together.  For  some  weeks  we  had 
known  that  a  little  house  had  been  leased  by 
Clarence,  and  Julia's  numerous  friends  had  been 
interesting  themselves  in  preparing  some  of  the 
necessary  articles  of  household  furniture.  These 
arrangements  were  being  completed,  to  the  knowl- 
edge of  every  one,  and  were  universally  approved  ; 
and  it  seemed  as  if  there  could  be  no  surprise. 
But  what  mind,  reader,  can  penetrate  the  cerebrums 


THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

of  these  young  people,  and  bring  thence  all  the 
hiding  thoughts  ? 

Henrietta  had  taken  unusual  interest  in  arrang- 
ing the  cottage,  and  she  had  Oliver  for  a  willing 
assistant.  Her  management  was  acknowledged 
to  be  superior,  and  the  fact  that  she  had  carriages 
at  her  command  at  all  hours,  for  every  friend,  made 
us  appreciate  her  ability.  Once  or  twice  some  one 
proposed  to  order  a  carriage  or  suggested  that  she 
was  doing  more  than  her  share. 

"  My  share  !  "  said  she  ;  "  we  are  not  going  to 
have  Clarence  and  Julia  married  more  than  once, 
and  my  share  is  all  I  can  do  for  them.  As  for 
carriages,  just  let  me  alone,  and  when  mine  are  all 
used  up,  you  may  call  in  the  neighbors'.  I  have 
never  taken  any  interest  in  any  wedding  before, 
and  I  want  you  to  let  me  have  my  way  just  as 
much  as  you  can." 

Henrietta's  father  looked  on  with  a  marked  de- 
gree of  satisfaction  ;  for  he  now  fully  appreciated 
her  ability  as  a  manager,  not  only  in  weddings, 
but  as  cashier  in  the  bank.  There  was  a  certain 
degree  of  mystery  about  the  management  of  affairs 
that  attracted  my  attention,  and  I  mentioned  this 
to  Henrietta,  and  then  she  let  me  into  the  secret. 

"  You  can  really  be  of  help  to  us,  Doctor,"  said 
she  ;  "  for  we  need  some  one  to  aid  us  at  times, 
because  we  have  a  big  secret  to  keep.  You  see, 
Emma  is  engaged  to  a  professor  in  the  West,  a 
former  classmate,  and  he  is  to  come  here,  and 
Emma  is  to  be  first  bridesmaid  and  he  the  best 


KEEPING    THE  SECRET. 

man  ;  I  am  to  be  second  bridesmaid  and  Oliver 
the  second  best  man  ;  but  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the 
minister  will  marry  Emma  first  and  then  Julia, 
and  we  want  you  to  help  keep  the  secret." 

This  was  really  news  to  me,  and  quite  a  secret, 
and  one  worth  keeping.  From  that  time,  I  really 
enjoyed  looking  on  and  seeing  Henrietta  manage. 
The  fact  was,  I  was  delighted  with  her  intuitive 
knowledge  of  just  how  to  manage  in  all  emergen- 
cies. I  kept  up  a  continual  laugh,  in  my  sleeve, 
at  how  the  public  would  be  astonished  when  they 
saw  the  minister  make  a  mistake  and  marry  the 
first  couple  he  came  to,  instead  of  the  couple  in  the 
centre,  and  then  to  correct  his  mistake,  marry  the 
couple  in  the  centre  too. 

It  was  arranged  that  the  wedding  should  take 
place  in  the  beautiful  little  university  chapel, 
where  the  memorial  windows  add  an  artistic  charm 
to  the  sacredness  of  the  place.  It  was  to  be  a  pri- 
vate wedding,  and  yet,  since  there  was  plenty  of 
room,  many  were  invited.  This  part  of  the  busi- 
ness was  left  in  Henrietta's  hands. 

"Evidently  those  in  authority  at  the  university 
green-house  had  been  consulted,  for  the  pulpit  was 
decorated  most  lavishly  and  artistically  with  the 
rarest  plants  and  most  beautiful  flowers.  Nothing 
was  lacking  to  make  the  room  as  fragrant  and  beau- 
tiful as  the  audience  was  distinguished. 

At  the  appointed  hour  the  organist  took  his  seat, 
and  the  vault  reverberated  with  the  "  Wedding 
March,"  by  Mendelssohn.  The  music  was,  to  my 


504  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

mind,  most  beautiful,  and  our  young  friends  made 
their  entrance,  not  ]with  the  pomp  sometimes  as- 
sumed where  marriages  are  solemnized  in  church, 
where  the  bridesmaids  enter  in  single  file  in  long 
and  measured  strides  and  the  bride  follows  alone, 
but  they  came  in  together  ;  first  Emma,  then  Julia, 
and  then  Henrietta,  with  their  escorts  ;  nor  did 
their  dresses  trail  after  them  in  wild  dismay.  The 
minister  coming  in  from  the  right  met  them  as 
soon  as  they  were  in  place,  and  sure  enough,  he 
began  with  the  first  couple  to  the  left,  and  married 
them.  There  was  some  whispering  and  looking 
from  one  to  another  as  if  they  thought  something 
was  wrong,  but  it  quieted  down  while  he  married 
the  second  couple  ;  but  try  and  think  of  my  aston- 
ishment, and  the  astonishment  of  everybody,  when 
he  began  the  ceremony  with  the  third  couple,  and 
no  one  stopped  him  before  they  were  married. 

Henrietta's  father  sat  where  I  could  see  him, 
and  at  first  he  looked  severe,  and  then  smiled  as 
if  he  thought  it  was  a  fine  joke.  I  thought  at 
first  that  it  was  a  surprise  to  him,  but  I  after- 
ward learned  that  the  minister  and  her  father  and 
mother  were  the  only  ones  in  the  secret.  Of  course 
I  laughed  at  myself  for  thinking  the  confiding 
Henrietta  had  let  me  into  her  secret,  to  help  keep 
it,  and  I  had  been  straining  every  muscle  in  my 
body  and  every  nerve  in  my  brain  to  help  her 
keep  it,  when,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  mischief  had 
surprised  me  more  than  anybody  else. 


HAPPY  HOME.  605 

The  congratulations  over,  the  friends  took  car- 
riages and  rode  past  the  president's  house,  engi- 
neer's building,  Sibbly  College,  the  main  buildings, 
the  great  library,  Sage,  and  down  to  the  city. 

Emma  and  her  husband  started  on  a  trip  to  the 
White  Mountains.  Henrietta  and  Oliver  escorted 
Clarence  and  Julia  to  their  new  home.  We  spent 
tHe  evening  with  them  in  their  new  home,  where 
everything  was  neat  and  tidy. 

"The  house  is  small,"  said  Julia,  "but  I'm  glad 
of  that ;  for  we  do  not  want  to  commence  where 
our  parents  left  off,  at  the  top,  for  we  want  to  have 
a  chance  to  improve.  We  desire  to  build  our  home 
with  care,  and  this  will  take  time.  Let  those  who 
so  desire  go  on  a  journey  as  soon  as  they  are  mar- 
ried ;  but  I'  m  happy  to  remain  at  home,  away  from 
the  eyes  of  strangers." 

"  The  more  I  think  about  it,"  said  Clarence,  "  the 
better  I  am  pleased  with  our  little  rented  house. 
We  will  want  to  look  back  on  our  first  housekeep- 
ing with  satisfaction,  and  if  we  begin  in  great 
ostentation,  surrounded  by  every  improvement, 
and  blessed  with  every  luxury  which  our  parents 
can  furnish  us,  there  will  be  little  to  prompt  us  to 
exertion.  Now  we  can  look  forward  to  the  time 
when  we  will  acquire  a  home  of  our  own,  a  nice, 
artistic  home,  exemplifying  Julia's  skill  and  artistic 
feeling.  In  the  meantime  we  will  be  happy  in  this 
little  rented  house." 

"Fortunate  young  people,"  thought  I  ;  "so  full 


6o6  THE  HOLY  OF  HOLIES. 

• 

of  vigorous,  joyous  health  ;  abounding  in  ambition 
to  do  for  others  ;  free  from  annoying  habits,  and 
thoroughly  educated  in  practical  and  honorable 
callings  in  life  ;  certainly  your  lives  will  remain 
always  joyous." 

After  our  enjoyable  evening,  we  returned  home, 
my  wife  weary  with  the  week's  excitement.  It 
was  quite  natural  that  I  should  review  the  scenes 
and  experiences  of  the  past  which  grew  out  of  our 
friendship  ;  our  casual  meeting  in  the  bower  house, 
our  mutual  admiration,  which  deepened  into  last- 
ing friendship  ;  and  our  plans  for  acquiring  such 
educational  advantages  as  would  be  most  practical 
in  a  life  of  utility.  Our  efforts  have  been  crowned 
with  success,  and  my  young  friends  have  grown  to 
manhood  and  womanhood,  fully  equipped  for  the 
responsibilities  of  life.  The  lessons  which  they  re- 
ceived will  be  passed  along  with  the  hope  of  bring- 
ing others  into  the  sheepfold.  I  love  to  think  of  my 
little  friends  whom  I  have  tried  to  aid  in  finding  a 
path  free  from  thorns  and  brambles,  and  I  hope 
that  I  have  been  of  some  service  to  them.  In  a 
marked  degree  our  paths  will  naturally  separate, 
and  to  quiet  the  tinge  of  sadness  thus  awakened, 
I  comfort  myself  with  the  reflection  that  what- 
ever they  may  be  to  others,  to  me  they  will 
always  remain  my  little  faithful  friends  and  pupils, 
Clarence  and  Julia. 


MASSA  OB  DE  SHEEP  FOL'.* 


^=F==^= 


1.  De  mas-sa    ob  de  sheep-fol',  Dat   guard  de  sheep-fol'  bin, 

2.  Oh,  den  says  de  hire-hY  shcp  a'd,  Dey's  some,     dey's  black  and  thin, 

3.  Den  de  mas  -  sa  ob  de  sheep  fol',  Dat  guard  de  sheep-fol'  bin, 

4.  Den  up  tro'  de  gloom-'rin  mead-ows,  Tro'     de       col'  night  rain  and  win, 


rr 


J  ^    *  -^=5— 


Look  out  in  de  gloom'-rin  mead  ows 
And  some,  dey's  po'  ol'  wed-da's, 
Goes  down  in  de  gloom'-rin  mead  ows 
Aad  up  t'ro  de  gloom'-rin   rain-paf, 


Wha'r  de  long  night  rain  be  -  gin, 

But     de  res'  dey's  all  brung    in. 

Wha'r  de  long  night  rain  be  -  gin; 

Wha'r  de  sleet  fa'    pie'-cin'  thin, 


H? — n   i    ,«q      |       a — s 

~*~  J<K 


*  The  words  of  "  The  Big  Dipper  "  and  "  The  Belle  of  Cornell"  by  Mrs.  Allen. 
All  music  by  Dr.  Allen.     Arrangements  by  Dr.  H.  S.  Perkins. 


MASSA  OB  DE  SHEEP  FOL'.  —  CONCLUDED. 


s 


So  he  call  to  de  hire-lin'  shep-a'd,       Is  my  sheep,  is  dey  all  come  in  ? 

Dey's  some,  dey's  black  and  thin,            And  some  dey 'spo'ol' wed  -       da's, 

Soheletdowndeba'sobdesheep-fol'Callin'  soFComein,  Come     in, 

Do  po'  los'  sheep  ob  de  sheep-fol'         Dey  all  come  gad      -  derin'     in, 


-         «  |  r,H 


*•« 


So  he  call  to  de  hirelin  shepa'd,        Is  my  sheep,  is  dey  all  come  in  ? 
But  de  res'  dey 'sail  brung  in,  But  de  res'  dey's  all  brung  in. 

So  he  le'  down  de  bars  of  de  sheep-fol', Callin'  sof  Come  in,  Come  in. 


De  po'  los'  sheep  ob  de  sheep-fol' 


Dey  all  come   gad-derin    in. 


14  DAY  USE 

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LD  21-100m-6/56 
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University  of  California 

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